Dream or Memory?
by Ithitani
Summary: After a summer of isolation, Harry returns to Hogwarts and meets a new student named Tom. Tom gives Harry a new perspective on the wizarding world he lives in. Rated M for slash and some violence. Starts beginning of Harry's 5th year.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Dream or Memory?

**Summary:** After a summer of isolation, Harry returns to Hogwarts and meets a new student named Tom. Tom gives Harry a new perspective on the wizarding world he lives in. Rated M for slash and some violence.

**A/N:** This starts beginning of Harry's 5th year but is AU from 4th year onward. This story was inspired by this quote from Dumbledore in The Half Blood Prince: 

_"...From this point forth, we shall be leaving the firm foundation of fact and journeying together through the murky marshes of memory into thickets of wildest guesswork. From here on in, Harry, I may be as woefully wrong as Humphrey Belcher, who believed the time was ripe for a cheese cauldron."_

I'd like to say that this story features a Gray!Dumbledore but I really don't like the terms Light, Gray, or Dark. Since this story is meant to show that Dumbledore isn't just a kindly old wizard who likes sweets, but is a human like everyone else, I don't really like using those blanket terms, but I guess Gray will have to do.

I have this posted on AO3 under the same name, if that site is more towards your liking. This story will have slash (see warnings) so, if this story is possibly deleted from this site because of the content there is a back up.

**Warnings:** This story is slash, meaning a sexual relationship between two males. This story is rated M for a reason. If that bothers you, do NOT read this story. It will save everyone from a lot of frustration if you just skipped this story, instead of reading it and becoming enraged enough to flame.

Also, there is an Underage warning. Harry is 15 at the start of the story. Depending on where you live, 15 may or may not be the age of consent.

If there is something else in the story someone feels I should warn readers about, please let me know and I will add it to the warnings.

******Disclaimer(for the whole story): **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Chapter 1**

Cold wind swirled around Harry's thin frame as he dragged his trunk behind him onto Platform 9 ¾. A few witches and wizards were scattered around the platform in small groups, huddled together and clasping their cloaks closely to their body in an attempt to ward off the unusually chilly September day.

Pulling the sleeves of his tattered black jacket over his hands, Harry walked swiftly towards the Hogwarts Express and yanked his trunk over the steps as he boarded the train. Since he was nearly an hour early before the train was scheduled to depart, he didn't have any difficulties finding an empty compartment to seclude himself in.

His hands shook as he settled the trunk on the floor of the compartment and took a seat right next to the window. Taking a deep breath, he clasped his hands in an attempt to settle them and peered out the window onto the platform, keeping an eye out for when his friends arrived.

Harry's stomach clenched at the thought of his two long time friends. Or perhaps it was because of hunger. He would be lying if he said he was eager to see them. He hadn't heard a word from either Ron or Hermione throughout the entire summer holiday. Dumbledore had told them the last day of the school year that it was unsafe for him to send or receive any owls as a safety precaution. Because of this, Dumbledore had said it would be best if Hedwig remained in the owlery to take away the temptation.

Even though he wasn't able to use Hedwig, he was confident that Ron and Hermione would at least sneak a few letters to him during the summer despite Dumbledore's warning that it was dangerous. He was disappointed when it became obvious that they weren't even attempting to contact him. It didn't make sense to Harry why he was being restricted in such a way. He didn't understand why it could be dangerous to keep in contact with his friends and godfather.

It was one of the worst summers Harry's had to endure so far. As soon as he arrived at Number Four Privet Drive, his trunk was thrown in the cupboard under the stairs and he was locked up in Dudley's second room. There were two additional locks on the door as well as a metal chain that kept him trapped inside his room even if he were able to manage to pick the locks like he had in previous summers.

At first, he thought this summer would be better than before. The Dursley's wanted nothing to do with him since last summers debacle as he was escorted to the Quidditch World Cup. The prank Fred and George pulled on Dudley wasn't as humorous to his Aunt and Uncle as it was to everyone else. They let their displeasure known to Harry the first week back from school. However, Harry had anticipated their retaliation since he was well aware of how long they could hold a grudge. Despite the unpleasant return home, it was different than summers previous.

Petunia didn't rap her knuckles on his door at the crack of dawn, demanding he make breakfast. Vernon didn't hand him a ridiculously long list of chores to complete before he returned home from work. Dudley didn't shove him against the walls or try to trip him on the stairs. Instead, they kept him locked up in the dusty second bedroom, only letting him out for a few minutes, twice a day to use the loo and take hasty showers. It wasn't bad at first. The only thing he had to worry about was the endless boredom that plagued him since all of his books were locked away.

Then the weather started getting really hot. He soon discovered that his window, although lacking the metal bars from the summer before his second year, was sealed shut and unable to be opened. The curtains were thin and riddled with holes that did little to block out the heat from the sun. And no matter how many times he tried to get out of the room by promising to be quiet and complete as many chores as they wanted, the Dursleys refused to listen; threatening to lock him in the cupboard instead if he kept trying to persuade them, and left him in his little hell hole to melt.

Some days he wasn't fed. Either because Petunia forgot his existence or because she happened to be in a terrible mood, he didn't know. When he was fed it was only twice a day, and it consisted of a can of cold soup and a cup of water that failed to keep his thirst quenched as his room became hotter and hotter throughout the day. Due to the heat, hunger, thirst and pain from punishments, he started to forget what day it was and how long he had been locked up.

As the days passed he realized how unsavory this situation was. No, he didn't have to do an endless amount of chores and was spared from being in the Dursleys presence unnecessarily, but as the summer progressed he couldn't help but feel that that, at least, would be better than being sentenced to nearly three months of seeing nothing but the chipped and dirty walls of Dudley's second bedroom. Then, the loneliness started sinking in, as the hours passed in silence and the heavy, hot air pressed on him; making it feel as though he would suffocate due to how difficult it seemed for him to breathe, and how the dust in the air clogged his nostrils and made his throat feel raw.

Harry didn't even understand why the Dursley's were secluding him in such an extreme way. The last time they had done this was the summer before his second year – and that was a consequence of Dobby splattering the Mason's with dessert. Vernon had been furious, more so than he ever had been in the past. So even if the Dursley's were still sore over Dudley getting pranked last summer and his tongue swelling to magnificent proportions – they weren't nearly angry enough to punish him in such a way. It didn't make sense, and the Dursley's refused to explain their actions. They refused to answer his questions or acknowledge him in any way unless it was to yell at him or punish him for one reason or another.

Being ignored for the most part, and having no idea what was going on in the outside world – magical or muggle – he could feel the loneliness and despair settling in his chest. In order to keep himself from drowning in his own thoughts and sinking into a depression, he spent a lot of his time pacing his room and looking out the window as he watched hired workers maintain the upkeep of the lawn and garden. He constantly watched and waited for an owl to come, hoping to receive news that he would be leaving and spending the rest of the holiday with the Weasley's or his godfather Sirius.

When he was truly desperate, he even took to running his fingers through the thick layer of dust that covered his desk and floor to draw pictures or to write out letters to his friends or godfather that he wished he'd be able to send. Other times he tinkered with the broken items Dudley had left in the room, either attempting to fix it or build something new. He wasn't able to manage much since he didn't have the proper tools to do such things, but his kept his mind occupied for a time.

Despite his patience and diligence to keep himself occupied, he couldn't help but feel resentment when weeks had passed without receiving a single letter from anyone to keep him updated or answer any of the multitude of questions that were bubbling through his mind.

He was swept up in thoughts over what happened during the third task of the Triwizard Tournament and what happened afterwords when Peter Pettigrew was portkeyed straight into the office of Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Why was Pettigrew turned in? In fact, _who _was the one that sent him to the Aurors gift wrapped in the first place? Unless, Pettigrew turned himself in... _No, he's too much of a coward._ Was Pettigrew questioned? What did they find out? Did they know that _he_ was the one responsible for betraying his parents and killing all those muggles? Was Sirius going to get a trial and get his name cleared? All these questions festered in his mind as he spent his days waiting for the summer holiday to end.

By the time he received a package containing all of his new school supplies and clothing he was pleasantly surprised to learn that he would be leaving for King's Cross Station the next day to catch the Hogwarts Express.

As Petunia drove him to London, face pinched in disgust and annoyance that she had to take time out of _her _day just to transport her freak of a nephew to the train station, Harry was embroiled in a dichotomy of emotions.

Happiness, because he was outside for the first time in months and able to enjoy the cold wind that blew through his hair. Anger, because he had to spend the _entire_ summer locked inside the Dursley's house and kept in the dark about the goings on of the wizarding world. Excitement, because he was finally going to be back at Hogwarts, the only place he actually considered home. Though, the thought of seeing his friends made him anxious to finally get all of his questions answered, he mostly felt sad and alone.

He didn't hear from Ron, Hermione or Sirius at all and he didn't understand why. Not even on his birthday, and he was pained to realize that the only gifts he received was from his friends and godfather, and without them he was just as alone as he was before he found out he was a wizard. The loneliness reminded him of what he once was before he entered the wizarding world.

He was _Boy _again. The ungrateful orphan and unwelcome burden_. Freak._

Harry shook his head as he tried to clear his morose thoughts. He forced his gaze away from the crowds of witches and wizards that started trickling through the platform. Dragging his trunk to rest between his feet, he opened it up and started organizing his new school supplies, since he wasn't able to at his relatives.

He scanned through the titles of his new books and he stacked them neatly on top of his old ones. He folded his new selection of robes, shirts, trousers, and sleepwear as he pulled them out of their bags and placed them in their proper place before closing and locking the lid of his trunk. Just as he had secured his trunk in the overhead compartment he caught sight of a flash of red hair out of the corner of his eye and once more looked out the window.

The Weasleys had finally arrived at the train station with their entire clan of red heads. Accompanied with the Weasleys were Hermione, Mad-Eye Moody, a young woman with spiked electric blue hair and a scruffy, middle-aged bloke who looked as though he could do with a shave and a shower.

Heart hammering in his chest, Harry leaned back and slowly exhaled. Trying to calm his racing heart or his rapidly building rage, or both, he wasn't sure. He kept the door of his compartment in his field of vision as he waited for his 'friends' to arrive.

– –

The atmosphere in the compartment was tense as the three occupants observed one another. None of the other students or acquaintances of theirs attempted to enter the compartment since the conflict between the Golden Trio was immediately noticeable once their gaze looked through the window of the closed and locked compartment door; deciding to find another place to settle down for the train ride instead.

Hermione had her hands clasped nervously in her lap, her mouth opening and closing several times as she tried to think of something to say. Ron sat stiffly next to Hermione as he kept his eyes down on his scuffed trainers in an attempt to block out the glare Harry was sending their way.

Harry didn't know what to think or feel. He was hoping that they would be excited to see him and immediately apologize for abandoning him during the summer with their lack of correspondence. Instead, when they had found him, they had entered and sat down across from him without a word passing from their lips, and hesitant to look him in the eye.

While Harry's skin was pale and clammy from his indoor seclusion, Ron and Hermione were flushed from the mildly chilly weather. Their hair and clothes in slight disarray from the wind and hasty departure to make it to the train station on time. Despite the inner turmoil that Harry went through during the summer as we waited to receive word from his friends, they didn't seem to have been as agonized with the security restrictions Dumbledore had placed nearly as much as he had been.

Hermione had a nice summer tan most likely due to her summer travels. Her hair was longer and looked to be a lighter shade of brown due to the amount of time she spent in the sun. She was tall, slender and more curvaceous as she grew into womanhood. Slung across her shoulder was her school bag that was bulky in shape with the amount of books that was crammed into it. She was already wearing her school robes, and at the moment she was attempting to straighten them out as her hands moved in nervous anticipation.

Ron was, of course, noticeably taller than he was at the beginning of the summer. His face was clean from smudges of dirt and food for once, making his naturally pale complexion and freckles more noticeable. He was also wearing his robes already, just like Hermione. This time though, it was obvious that his robes were brand new and well taken care of. There were no signs of old food stains on his person and the only wear and tear was from his slightly scuffed shoes. His posture was slightly straighter and more confident than normal, and was probably due to the polished silver Prefect badge that adorned his robe over his left breast pocket.

Momentarily stunned, Harry stared at the badge and was shocked to find a small sliver of jealousy fill his chest. Not that he had ever considered being a Prefect before. He enjoyed his midnight escapades through the castle and visits to the kitchen and Room of Requirement to know that he would be a horrible example of a stellar student. Not to mention his grades weren't up to standards with those needed to be a Prefect. But then, why would Ron be made Prefect? He didn't fit the standards for the position either. So what was McGonagall thinking when giving Ron the badge? How was he to explain the small feeling of jealousy he was experiencing? He knew he didn't deserve the position either. The only person he knew in his year who actually deserved it was Hermione...

Harry's eyes flickered back to look once more at the brown haired witch, and noticed she also adorned the silver badge. Her nervous hands tugging on her clothes had hidden the badge out of his sight when he had first perused her.

It was because of these observations and thoughts that Harry was reluctant to let himself push aside his anger and annoyance when Hermione and Ron started telling him about the Order of the Phoenix and the dismal state of the headquarters.

"It was a depressing place," Ron placated. "So even if you were allowed to come over during the summer you wouldn't have enjoyed it at all. Mum kept making us clean out dusty old rooms filled with cursed objects. They wouldn't even let us join in on Order meetings!"

"Well why wasn't I allowed to come over?" Harry snapped back angrily. His voice was hoarse and incredibly dry as he spoke. He realized suddenly that he hadn't used his voice in over a month. Being secluded in his room the entire summer, he hadn't had any human contact besides his Aunt and Uncle. And considering they didn't have much desire to interact with each other, besides the occasional glare and cuff around the ears, he didn't think that counted. "You said it was in one of Sirius' old ancestral homes. He'd want me to be there with him!"

"Of course he wanted you there Harry." Hermione said softly, hoping her tone would encourage Harry to calm down. "Sirius argued with Dumbledore on several occasions trying to get you out of the Dursleys. He was just as angry as we were that we weren't allowed to write you at all."

"Why wasn't I allowed to come over?" Harry asked again, clearing his throat and licking his parched lips. "And why wasn't I allowed to receive any letters at all? I know Dumbledore said it was a safety precaution but I thought that's what the blood wards are for! It's the only reason I keep getting sent back to my bloody relatives. If the wards aren't enough to protect me then what was the point of keeping me locked up there all summer?"

Hermione's eyes widened slightly in shock, her mouth slightly opened with the intention of interrupting Harry as he spoke, but he wouldn't allow her to interrupt now that he was finally getting everything out that had been frustrating and worrying him endlessly for the past few months.

"All I wanted was to find out what was happening with Sirius! I didn't even know if he was sent back to Azkaban or if he was already declared a free man! I wanted to know if I could finally live with him! Blood wards or not I would _never_ return to the Dursleys if I had the chance to live with Sirius. But I didn't hear a single word from either of you and apparently you didn't even try!"

"We did!" Ron exclaimed. "We tried sending you several owls even though we weren't supposed too. Every time we attempted we were either caught or the owls would just circle the house. They couldn't even get around the wards!"

"But why wasn't-" Harry began, frustrated that his questions weren't being answered.

"Harry!" Hermione interrupted, before her raven haired friend could get himself worked up again. "I know this is frustrating but we don't know the answers to your questions either. Not completely anyway. As for Sirius gaining his freedom there isn't much to update you on."

"What do you mean? He isn't even getting a trial? They _have_ Peter Pettigrew! What more could the Ministry possibly need?"

"It isn't that simple, Harry." Hermione sighed. "Yes, they have Pettigrew but apparently before he was portkeyed into the DMLE office he was Obliviated. At least that's what Kingsley said."

"Kingsley?"

"He's worked as an Auror for the DMLE for the past 23 years, and is a close acquaintance of Dumbledore's. He was actually assigned to Sirius' case when he escaped, but now he just feeds the Ministry false leads and keeps them from _actually_ finding Sirius. Anyway," she continued "Kingsley says the only thing left of Peter's memory is the night he betrayed your parents and framed Sirius."

"Then whats the problem?! That's everything they need to know that Sirius is innocent."

"Yes, well, apparently because it's the _only_ thing that Pettigrew remembers they think there's a possibility that his memories were fabricated. Even then, the fact that he is _alive_ and has the dark mark on his arm they are forced to do a trial. And now that the public knows Sirius didn't get a trial in the first place, the Minister and the DMLE haven't been put in the best of lights. They are simply stalling the entire process while they try to recuperate from the back lash that Pettigrews sudden appearance caused. At least, that's what I assume is happening."

Harry frowned as he listened to what Hermione told him. It seemed to him that Sirius should have already had a trial and cleared of all charges well before the summer ended. But apparently he was still in hiding because _the Ministry didn't want to look bad?_

A loud whistle rent the air, startling Harry momentarily from his thoughts. He saw parents waving and saying their last goodbyes as the train started moving away from the station. Sighing, Harry decided that he would have to wait until he could talk to Sirius directly to get a better idea of what is going on. For now, there were other questions he needed answered.

"You said you had some idea of why I wasn't allowed to come to Headquarters?" Harry questioned. "Did Dumbledore say anything at all?"

"Sort of" Ron stated. "It was actually Fred and George who found out. They were able to listen in on one of the Order meetings."

"Well what did they say?"

"Apparently Dumbledore didn't want you at headquarters because of your connection with You-Know-Who. I'm thinking he's worried you'd unintentionally expose the location or something. However, Fred and George also said it had something to do with what happened at the graveyard..." Hermione trailed off, her eyes focused on his warily.

Harry shifted nervously in his seat. He had never told them about what happened in the graveyard. All he'd told them was that Voldemort was back but he had refused to elaborate.

"What about the graveyard?"

Hermione huffed in irritation. "We were hoping _you'd_ be able to tell us."

"There isn't anything to tell." Harry mumbled.

"What do you mean there isn't anything to tell? Obviously whatever happened in the graveyard has made Dumbledore extremely worried for your safety for him to go to such measures."

"Don't you trust us, mate? You know you can tell us anything." Ron stated matter-of-factually.

Harry's eyes narrowed as anger once again swelled in his chest. Normally the comment would have placated him in the past. The friendship he had formed with the two of them in his first year had meant a lot to him and he _knew_ he could trust them. At least he used to be able too. He wasn't sure if it was because of the fight they got into last year during the Triwizard Tournament or if it was the superior and self deserving look that graced Ron's face and the depreciating tone he used as he spoke; but the anger that suddenly exploded within Harry's veins made it impossible for him to be nothing but offended by Ron's comment.

"Really, Ron, I can _trust_ you?" He snapped back mockingly. "I seem to have forgotten considering how I _trusted_ you to stick by my side when I told you that I _didn't _put my name in the Goblet. What next? Are you going to start accusing me of lying about Voldemort's resurrection just because I don't tell you exactly what happened in the graveyard? Are you going to accuse me of being nothing more than a disturbed, attention seeking orphan like Rita Skeeter did last year? If I say there's nothing to tell, then there's nothing to tell!"

Ron's face flushed red in anger. His fists were clenched as he rose to his feet to tower over Harry. Before he was able to give an angry retort, the compartment door swung open, breaking their privacy charms. The one who opened the door was a blonde haired, blue eyed Hufflepuff Prefect.

"Granger, Weasley." He addressed, his monotonous voice and blank stare seemingly indicating that he was oblivious to the heated discussion he had interrupted. "You're needed in compartment seven for the Prefect meeting."

Hermione gasped and quickly stood up, straightening her hair and robes. "Thank you for the reminder Tansley, I'd completely forgotten!" Tansley nodded and disappeared down the aisle as Hermione hustled Ron out the door before he could start arguing with Harry.

"Sorry Harry, I forgot to tell you. If we don't return before we reach Hogsmeade we'll see you at the welcoming feast." She called back as she pushed Ron the rest of the way out of the compartment.

Before leaving herself, Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of water. She smiled sheepishly at Harry as she placed the bottle into his hands. "This should help with your throat." She mumbled before rushing out of the compartment and closing the door behind her.

Harry smiled slightly at the thoughtful gesture. Once he had drank nearly the entire contents of the bottle he groaned in frustration at the realization that he was left alone in the compartment. The anger that had quickly swelled within him was slowly forming into guilt. He knew he was being petty when he mentioned the big fight they had the previous year. _Although it was a good way to avoid questions about the graveyard._ Harry mused. Yes, Ron was being a prat, most likely because he was made Prefect, and Hermione was being nosy and inquisitive as always, but it's obvious they still care for him and he shouldn't have taken his frustrations out on them.

Even though his friends filled him in on what was happening during the summer with the Order and with Sirius he still couldn't erase the feeling of hurt that had festered within him the entire summer he was locked up and alone. If anything, he was more bothered by the fact that Hermione and Ron didn't seem devastated at all by the no communication rule, and not because of the lack of actual letters. Harry reasoned that they were still able to at least write each other and had their families with them, so of course the restriction wouldn't seem so bad to them. It still made Harry feel unbelievably pathetic though when he realized how dependent he had become on their friendship. That realization really bothered him. Before Hogwarts he had never needed friends. Wanted them yes, but never needed them.

His state of health probably wasn't helping his mood at all either. He was hungry and thirsty (even after the bottle of water Hermione had given him) and he didn't have any food or money to get something from the trolley since he wasn't given a chance to visit Gringotts. Even though it was slightly chilly outside his skin looked more pale and sickly due to the light sheen of sweat. _Probably from a fever _He thought despondently.

Knowing now that Ron and Hermione were going to be occupied for a while, and that it was unlikely he was going to be disturbed by any of his other classmates now that the train was in motion, he decided to relax and sleep for the rest of the train ride to Hogsmeade. Hopefully by the time he reached the castle he would be well enough to avoid getting dragged to the Hospital Wing by a worried friend.

Once his mind was decided, he quickly changed into his school clothes and clasped his robe on. He already felt better wearing clean clothing that fit him and he didn't have to worry about waking up just before the train boarded at the Hogsmeade station if he had decided to change later. It was when Harry had just settled down after putting his trunk back together that he heard the compartment door slide open.

At the doorway was a teenager who looked to be about 16 or 17, if his height was any indication. He had straight curtained hair that was dark brown, nearly black. His fringe was split in the middle with a few of the locks tucked right behind his ears. His face was regal with high cheekbones, straight nose and squared jaw. His well fitted school robes showed he was lithe in stature with slightly broad shoulders. His eyes looked to be dark blue in colour as they swept around the compartment.

Harry was momentarily enraptured with the figure standing in the doorway. There was just _something_ about him that seemed familiar. Had he seen him in passing as he walked the halls of the castle? It seemed unlikely since this teen didn't have plain features that would just blend in with the crowd. Perhaps he was one of the foreign students that attended Hogwarts last year for the Tournament? _No, why would he still be here if he was?_

The tall teen smiled to reveal a row of straight, pearl white teeth as he took a step forward into the compartment. "I apologize if I have disturbed you. It seems that all the other compartments are full. Is it alright if I sit here?" He asked as he indicated a long fingered hand to the empty bench across from Harry.

Harry couldn't help but note that, despite the teens lithe figure, his poise and calm confidence he exuded seemed to make his presence fill the entire compartment. Harry probably would have been slightly intimidated if it weren't for the polite smile on his face and the calculating, yet calm look in his eyes.

"Yes, that's fine." Harry agreed, glad that his voice wasn't nearly as scratchy as it was earlier. He'd have to find some way to thank Hermione for the water later.

Harry watched the other closely while he settled his trunk in the overhead. His movements seemed graceful and practiced even though he was handling the bulky shape that was a trunk. His belongings looked new and of fine quality, indicating his was a family of wealth. The robes he wore, although obviously expensive and custom made with a material Harry was unfamiliar with, looked strong and thick enough to handle the hustle and bustle of student life and protect from the elements, while giving off an air of sophistication and grace at the same time. It was during this detailed observation that Harry noticed the tie the other teen was wearing was black instead of one of the four house colors. The badge on his right breast pocket was also blank.

Harry diverted his gaze back to the tall teens face as he had turned around and settled down on the bench, sitting directly across from Harry. "Thank you for letting me sit with you." The other smiled pleasantly as he held his hand out in greeting. "My name is Thomas Marek, but please, call me Tom."

Harry smiled back as he reached out to shake Tom's hand. "Harry Potter."

Once his shaky hand grasped around the others he felt a strange humming energy pulse through his arm. It wasn't unpleasant or painful and didn't force Harry to jerk his hand away. In fact, it was so subtle, that Harry just dismissed the sensation from his mind as soon as he dropped his hand at the end of the greeting.

"Are you a transfer student?" Harry asked. He hoped the question wasn't too blunt. However, he knew he had never seen Tom before and he didn't have an accent suggesting he was from Beauxbatons or Durmstrang. First years were also the only ones whose ties were black until they were sorted.

"I'm a new student, yes – but not transferred from another school." Tom explained, clearly expecting the question and not bothered by it in the slightest. "I was home schooled up until this point. My parents thought it better for me to get a formal education for my OWLs and NEWTs."

_So Tom is a fifth year?_ Harry thought idly. "Why were you home schooled?" He asked curiously. Who wouldn't want to go to Hogwarts or one of the other prestigious wizarding schools?

"My parents are renowned curse-breakers and scholars. They travel all over the world finding obscure objects or opening ancients tombs and castles." Tom stated. Something in Harry clicked as he remembered his surname. _Marek._ Yes, he had heard it a few times in Charms and Transfiguration classes.

"They felt I would learn a great deal following them on their travels and I quite agree." Tom continued a little smugly. "Although I have probably acquired a lot of obscure knowledge it hasn't helped with what I _do_ need to know in order to pass the tests I need to take to be considered a qualified wizard. So my parents contacted the Headmaster and had me enrolled for my fifth year."

"So your parents are.." Harry trailed off, trying to remember their names correctly. "Feodor and Astra Marek?"

Tom grinned. "Yes, have you heard of them?"

Harry nodded. "We learned about several spells they discovered in ancient texts they found throughout their careers. You were probably able to learn about a lot of rare magic on your travels." He grinned as he imagined Hermione going ecstatic with all the questions she would want to ask Tom. Harry frowned slightly at the thought of his friends again, but tried to push it back as he continued to talk to Tom about his unique educational experience.

"Oh, yes there is an immense amount of magic to study all over the world." Tom agreed. "Despite the numerous travels I've been on, I'm sad to say that I haven't been able to study such a prestigious and ancient castle such as Hogwarts. I was very happy to have been accepted as a student. From what I've researched, Hogwarts has extremely powerful and ancient wards and enchantments. I'm grateful for the opportunity to study and examine them."

Harry could tell that Tom did indeed seem happy to attend Hogwarts. He couldn't even imagine what it was like being home schooled by parents and constantly moving from one place to another. Although Harry was in over his head when it came to wards and enchantments. Those were taught in the Arithmancy and Ancient Runes class electives. Both of which he doesn't take.

"Were you able to see other magical schools, like Beauxbatons or Durmstrang?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"Hmm, yes, I've seen both – on the outside. Beauxbatons is a large palace that was recently renovated to give it a more modern look. Durmstrang is in a castle – like Hogwarts – however it is very small; only four stories high. Although, it is rumored that there is a massive underground library filled with ancient texts and obscure magical objects."

"You weren't able to go inside?"

Tom shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. Magical schools, especially those as renown as Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang, are very protective of the ancient secrets hidden within its walls. So, it is unlikely for a Headmaster or Headmistress to grant access to the building to foreign researchers and scholars such as my parents. The only way to get in is to be accepted as a student, a member of the faculty, or to engage in an official, governmental capacity. Otherwise, express permission is needed to get past the wards."

Harry hummed in contemplative thought at Tom's words. Last year when he had learned that Barty Crouch Jr. had impersonated Mad-Eye Moody, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, in order to get Harry into the Triwizard Tournament, he had thought that it was a huge hassle. Why would a Death Eater impersonate a teacher who is left with little-to-no free time due to all the classes, grading, detentions, quidditch games, and hogsmeade visits they're all responsible for? If what Tom said was correct, then it all had to do with the wards of the school.

It also explained a lot about Voldemort possessing Quirrell, Harry thought idly.

"But enough about me." Tom continued. "Tell me more about yourself. I've read several things about you in the papers this summer but could tell it was nothing but slanderous lies."

Harry's brow raised at the statement. There was stuff written about him in the prophet? If so why didn't Ron or Hermione tell him about it? From what Tom indicated it couldn't be anything good. He knew there was a lot being written about Sirius from the conversation he had with the two Gryffindors earlier.

"The papers?" Harry asked, confused. He really wished he was allowed to receive owls over the summer.

"You don't know?" Tom said, confusion also slipping into his voice. "I'd think you would, considering the _Prophet_ has been writing about you in nearly every edition since June."

Harry shook his head. "No, I wasn't allowed to have any communication with the Wizarding World this summer." Harry winced slightly once he realized he admitted this to a complete stranger. Tom seemed nice but he only met the bloke ten minutes ago for Merlin's sake! It was an embarrassment having his life controlled in such a way as though he were a mere toddler. He wasn't exactly keen on sharing about such things with others.

"Oh?" Tom's brow rose with vague surprise. "So I guess it's true that you do live with Muggles then. But why was your communication restricted?"

Harry shrugged, keeping his head tilted down slightly to avoid eye contact. He was really uncomfortable with the change in conversation. "Well what's the _Prophet_ been saying?" He asked, trying to avoid the subject of his summer restrictions. Although if last years events had anything to do with it, he had a pretty sure idea of what was being said about him in the papers.

"They say that you lied about Voldemort's return to power in order to gain attention and cause unrest in the community." Tom stated, his voice slightly breathy with exasperation as though he was irritated with the entire concept. "However I think all of it is just the Ministry's way of putting the British Magical Community in a false sense of security so they don't have to deal with the reality of Voldemort's return. Instead of actually _working_ to protect its people, it seems the Ministry has decided to ruin the reputation and name of a teenage wizard. Not only does that keep the focus of the general magical population from falling into a panic and wondering if your claims are true, it shifts the focal point of the populaces recent disdain for the Ministry onto _you. _That they would play their political games in a public venue where you have no chance of protecting yourself, due to your isolation in the muggle world, is despicable."

At first, Harry was glad that Tom dropped the subject on his summer restrictions, but then was momentarily floored to hear Tom say Voldemort's name without so much as a flinch. He's been trying for years to get his friends to stop calling the dark wizard 'You-Know-Who' but so far hasn't been successful. Harry assumed it had something to do with Tom being out of the country frequently and not getting the ridiculous fear of a name ingrained into his system. Then again, many of his friends had pointed out that he was either very foolish or very brave for daring to speak his name. Now, Harry wasn't entirely sure he was one or the other, but he could tell that Tom definitely wasn't the former. If anything, to Harry he just seemed to be _informed._

Once Harry had that figured out, he registered what else Tom had said. He already knew that the Minister didn't believe Harry's claims, but he had figured that they would be keeping everything hush-hush – like they did in third year when he insisted that Sirius was innocent. He found it surprisingly hurtful to learn that the Minister didn't keep quiet at all. Instead, Fudge had gotten the newspapers involved and now the majority of the magical community now believed the same horrible lies about Harry as he did.

"Wait. Does that mean you believe me?" Harry asked, a little reluctantly, but still feeling the need to know the answer all the same.

"Of course I do Harry." Tom answered sincerely. "Despite what the papers have been saying, the truth of the matter is, there isn't any reason for you to lie about such a thing. If the Ministry wasn't so incompetent, and the Wizarding Community weren't so blind, that would be an easy truth for the rest of the populace to see."

A slight warmth filled Harry's chest at hearing those words. Even though he still felt a slight pinch of anxiety at the thought of being talked about so frequently and negatively in the papers, it felt nice to have someone actually believe him for once and understand how utterly infuriating the adults of the wizarding world can be when they didn't want to deal with something unpleasant. To have this confidence in him coming from a student he barely met really lightened his mood.

Despite the positive feelings he had for Tom's statement and observations, he wasn't sure how to deal with such proclamations. "Um...er, well thanks I guess." He replied, awkwardly bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

Tom smiled softly in amusement. "No need to thank me, Harry. It's just such a shame that the rest of the wizards and witches don't realize the same thing." Harry nodded, uncertain how to respond as the conversation was momentarily stalled by a contemplative lull.

The whole fiasco with the Triwizard Tournament last year put a new perspective on his 'Boy-Who-Lived' status that he hasn't ever had to deal with before. Sure, he got stared at and whispered about by complete strangers, but he was used to that. He had been under intense scrutiny from the student body, both positive and negative, since he had entered the wizarding world. But until last year all of that had been isolated to Hogwarts and his once a year trip to Diagon Alley. Now, he was held under the same scrutiny just on a much larger and more public scale, and he wasn't sure how to handle it.

There were a few moments of silence, where Tom seemed to just sit there calmly observing every detail of Harry's form, while Harry glanced out the window, nervous about the suddenly penetrating gaze coming from Tom. The gaze didn't seem malicious in any way, but Harry could tell from their short acquaintanceship that Tom was smart and was probably seeing more than others have in the past with those sharp, dark blue eyes. And Harry wasn't sure that he was entirely comfortable with that.

"You said you've done some research on Hogwarts." Harry began, attempting to steer the conversation to a topic that was more manageable. "I assume that means you've also learned about the founders and the housing system? Is there a house you were hoping to get into?"

Not a moment after Harry had finished speaking, the compartment door slung open violently. Both Harry and Tom had turned their heads just in time to witness Ron crashing to the floor. Hermione was standing just outside the door frame, her hair slightly frazzled and her brow furrowed in irritation as she glared at Ron's crumpled form on the floor.

"Ron, what were you thinking? The door was simply stuck. What you did was completely unnecessary." Hermione scolded. "You nearly tore the door off it's hinges!"

"I wasn't trying to rip the door off." Ron grumbled as he scrambled to his feet, turning around and pointing an accusing finger at Harry. "Harry locked us out!"

Harry clenched his fists but kept the feelings of annoyance and anger off his face. "I didn't lock the door and I wasn't trying to keep anyone out."

"If that's true, then why are you still in here alone?" Ron questioned, eyes narrowed in suspicion as he attempted to straighten the wrinkles out of his robe. "Fred, George, Neville _and_ Dean said they wanted to talk to you but were unable to find the compartment. So even if you _didn't_ lock the door you obviously did something!"

"Once again, I didn't do anything to the damn door." Harry snapped. "And I'm not alone." Harry said while gesturing to Tom; who had sat quietly, face void of any emotions or reactions throughout the mild spat between the two Gryffindors. "You would have noticed that if you didn't come barging in here like a lunatic."

Ron blushed as he finally noticed Tom's presence in the compartment. The pompous ego he's had since first boarding the train seemed to deflate a bit in his embarrassment.

"This is Thomas Marek." Harry introduced. "Tom, this is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They are the Gryffindor Fifth Year Prefects."

Hermione gasped as she finally walked through the doorway and quickly stepped in front of the embarrassed Ron in order to greet Tom. "You must be the new student. As Harry said, my name is Hermione Granger." She said as she held her hand out in greeting. Ron had shuffled back awkwardly to close the door before sitting down and wringing his hands together.

Before, where Tom's face had been blank, had suddenly lit up as he smiled charmingly at Hermione as she spoke. Tom had gracefully accepted her hand, placing a gentle kiss on top, never breaking eye contact with her as she blushed at the unexpected gesture. "It is very nice to meet you Ms. Granger."

"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Marek." She replied cheerfully as she took a seat next to Tom. Harry couldn't help but grin at the scowl that crossed Ron's still red face as he watched Hermione and Tom interact.

"Please, call me Tom."

Harry was slightly awed to see Hermione once again blush, insisting that she also be addressed by her first name. He had never seen his bookish, no-nonsense friend act this way; not even when she dated Victor Krum, the extremely popular and wealthy Bulgarian Seeker. She was completely taken in with Tom and he knew she would just like him all the more once she found out about his unique educational experiences.

His mood completely changed from annoyance at being interrupted and yelled at, to being smugly content at these realizations. The fact that Ron was sulking in quiet jealousy as Hermione slowly became infatuated with the new student, was just a pleasant surprise.

"So what happened with the Prefect meeting?" Harry questioned. "I thought you said it would last the rest of the train ride to Hogsmeade."

"Oh, the meeting didn't turn out as long as I originally thought." Hermione answered once it became clear that Ron wasn't. Ron had turned his head away once Harry asked about the meeting, intent on sulking and stubbornly ignoring the other occupants. "We were supposed to do rounds through the train and assisting the new first years and answering any questions they had. But apparently we weren't needed since other Prefects had been assigned to it already." She finished, looking a little despondent on missing out on the opportunity to immediately start her Prefect responsibilities.

Hermione cleared her throat, turning back to Tom once again, still waiting for her blush to fade away. "Let me apologize for Ron and I entering unannounced." She pointedly glared at Ron as she spoke, indicating that he should apologize as well, before returning her attentions to Tom. "I hope Harry has made you feel welcome. I can't even imagine what it would be like attending a boarding school after only receiving instruction at home."

And off they went. Harry was correct in assuming Hermione would get along very well with Tom. As they discussed academics, Ron continued to sulk in his little corner of the compartment; taking turns to glare at Tom for gaining all of Hermione's attention, and Harry for the argument that they had gotten into earlier. Harry just settled for listening to the chatter as he quietly glanced out the window; glad to have a little time to himself before the Welcoming Feast. Even though he wasn't feeling secure about getting some much needed sleep due to the visiting occupants, he still felt his mind calming from all the new information he had acquired since arriving at the Hogwart's Express.

When their compartment started getting new visitors, Harry engaged everyone in a little conversation and even helped introduce everyone to Tom. Fred and George were excited to tell him that they had worked on several new pranking items over the summer and were eager to test them out on the new First years – much to Hermione's dismay.

Dean had dropped by to play a game of exploding snap – claiming he had ended up stuck in a compartment full of girls who thought the game childish. Ron, who was still insistent on ignoring Harry, was starting to feel lonely and in need of company and was happy to take him up on his offer. As the two started throwing cards down, occasionally scorching the bench upholstery and sending clouds of smoke in the air as they exploded, Harry visited with Neville.

He was surprised to learn that the girl Neville had brought with him was his girlfriend, and that they started to date the very end of last school year. Luna Lovegood seemed like a very nice person to Harry, even though she seemed very quirky and odd at times. He enjoyed talking to her and learning about the _Quibbler_, a magazine her father Xenophilius Lovegood had started several years back.

"Most thinks it's rubbish, but that's just the Lorgyrpus' influencing their mind." Luna had explained, while pointing out an article titled 'Why Everyone Thinks This Magazine is Rubbish' that detailed exactly how adept the Lorgyrpus' are at brainwashing people.

The train started slowing down not long after, and Harry sighed in relief as he saw the Hogsmeade Station right outside his window. He didn't realize how weak and exhausted his body was until he had stood up, nearly losing his balance as his head started to swim. After taking a few calming breaths, he was able to follow the rest of the students off the train without incident; glad that nobody had noticed his dizzy spell. Despite his less than ideal health, he was just happy to finally be home.

– –

"Did you hear him? Says he'll probably be sorted into Ravenclaw." Ron groused as soon as Tom separated from them to join the First Years for the sorting. Throughout the ride to Hogwarts from Hogsmeade, Ron had glared fiercely at the carriage Tom and Hermione were in. His seething jealousy over Hermione's infatuation with the new student seemed to help Ron forget about his previous dispute with Harry; intent on voicing his obvious displeasure with Tom. "But I bet he's a slimy Slytherin – no doubt about that. Probably only said Ravenclaw to impress Hermione – and did you see the way he _kissed_ her hand? What was that all about?"

They made their way over to the Gryffindor table and sat near the end with the rest of the fifth years. Hermione was already there, catching up with her female dorm mates and ignoring the glare Ron was sending her.

"He was just being polite." Harry stated as he grabbed the pitcher of water and filled his goblet; glad to be off the carriages being pulled by those wretched creatures.

Ron scoffed. "Yeah, right. It doesn't matter if he's a Slytherin or not, since he obviously isn't a Gryffindor. We won't have to deal with him anymore after tonight."

Harry rolled his eyes.

The hat was brought out and set upon the stool, the brim ripping open as it began its song. Normally the students were silent once the song began, eager to hear what advice the hat had, however, this year there were still many students whispering with each other. At first, Harry thought it was only because of Tom; the one tall figure standing calmly in the middle of the hall amongst the crowd of small and nervous first years.

Then he heard several whisperings of his name, fingers pointing at him, and several glares directed his way. Harry was surprised to realize that several Gryffindors were doing the same thing. Some had even moved down the bench in order to keep clear from him. Lavender Brown was on his left side, separated from him by a seat of space as she scowled at him. Harry quickly averted his gaze, focusing at the front of the Hall as Professor McGonagall read out names and the Sorting took place. He clapped absentmindedly whenever a first year was sorted into Gryffindor, but he kept his focus on Tom as he waited for his turn to be sorted.

He was amazed at how calm and collected the tall teen was. Most of the students had their eyes on Tom and whispered about him. Several mentioned how tall, handsome and mysterious he was and wondered what year he was in. Many hoped that he would be sorted into their particular house. Harry knew if he was in the same situation, he would be shuffling about nervously and wringing his shaking hands together under the intense scrutiny. Yet Tom remained perfectly composed. His posture was straight, shoulders relaxed, his hands clasped calmly behind his back with his head facing forward. The same aura of calm confidence that Harry felt in the compartment still radiated off of him.

It was several minutes later, as Tom walked forward and sat himself on the stool, that Harry realized why he was so enthralled with the new student. While he had visited with Tom on the train, not once did his gaze flicker up to see Harry's scar. It was a simple thing, but it was a new experience for Harry. Every time he met someone new, or just passed through the streets of Diagon Alley, people always looked at the lightning bolt shaped mark on his forehead. It became even more apparent last year when all the foreign students arrived at Hogwarts. They weren't used to his presence as the other students were, and the eyes on his forehead developed into a major pet peeve of his. Even Ron and Hermione, his best friends, had been quick to look at his scar when they first met on the train all those years ago.

To Harry, it meant that people didn't see him as _just Harry_. They saw the Boy-Who-Lived, the Saviour of the Wizarding World; he was nothing but a symbol to them. But Tom didn't even glance at his scar. Tom didn't even interrupt as Harry introduced himself, even though he already knew who he was. Despite the fact that Tom had read about him in the newspaper, he had _asked_ Harry who he was and didn't believe a word that _The Daily Prophet_ said about him.

So, as the Sorting Hat was lowered onto Tom's head, Harry realized that he wanted Tom to be in Gryffindor. He wanted to be in the same house as the student that had surprised him so thoroughly with the small and seemingly insignificant act of _not_ looking at his scar.

The Sorting Hat had just barely touched the top of Tom's head when the brim ripped open to shout out a house name. The students were deathly silent and the air was thick with eager anticipation; everyone holding their breath in the hopes that the new fifth year would be joining their house. However, just as fast as the brim had split open, the Hat had sealed itself up again without announcing one of the four houses.

Students started whispering at the unusual display. None of the students had seen the Hat act so indecisive before. Professor McGonagall seemed just as surprised as the students, breaking out of the bored monotony that came with assisting the Sorting every year to glance at Tom; both eyebrows raised and her head tipped down slightly to peer over the rim of her glasses in an inquisitive scrutiny.

Meanwhile, Tom was still perched on the stool. His back was straight and his mouth and jaw (his eyes covered from view by the ancient hat) were smoothed out in seemingly calm patience. Despite the mostly unchanged demeanor, Harry noticed that Tom's hands, which were previously loosely grasping the edge of the stool, were now clenched so tightly that his hands were shaking slightly and the knuckles had turned white.

Before the student speculations could escalate and rumors could begin, the brim of the Sorting Hat ripped open once more and loudly declared, "Gryffindor!" The thunderous applause erupting from the Gryffindor table made Harry startle and nearly fall off his seat.

"You've got to be kidding me." Ron groaned, burying his head in his hands in despair.

As Tom walked towards his new house table, many of the Gryffindor students shook his hand and greeted him while shooting smug looks to the other houses that were glaring in jealousy. Harry couldn't help but feeling a big smug himself as Tom sat down right next to him. Either Tom didn't notice the animosity several of the Gryffindors held for Harry, or he didn't care. Tom just gave them all polite smiles before focusing back onto the rest of the Sorting. It didn't take long for the rest of the students to quiet down as well once they noticed McGonagall's stern gaze as she called forth the next first year to sit on the stool.

Once all the first years were Sorted, and Dumbledore had stood up to make his announcements, Harry had a sudden sense of deep unease settle into his chest. He wasn't sure why, but ever since he had woken up in the Hospital Wing a week after the events of the Third Task; with the Headmaster sitting next to his bed with a sad look in his twinkling eyes, he had felt uneasy around the older wizard. Possibly even scared, but he wasn't sure why that would be, since he had always enjoyed the company of the Headmaster since he first entered Hogwarts.

"I would also like to introduce this years new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, Professor Dolores Jane Umbridge." Dumbledore announced after the usual warnings of staying out of the Forbidden Forest and the new list of banned items on Mr. Filch's office door.

Harry nearly flinched once he took in the sight of the new DADA Professor, whose presence went completely unnoticed by him earlier. Umbridge was a short-stature, rotund witch encased in a hideously pink robe. The small smile on her face was sickly as she waved at the crowd of students with her chubby, white gloved hand.

For a moment Harry felt a bit of despair at the thought of this woman teaching DADA the whole year. Then he remembered how he felt the same thing about Alastor Moody last year; how he was skeptical of the gruff looking ex-Auror, only to be pleasantly surprised by his competence in the subject. The fact that Moody turned out to actually be a Death Eater was a little off putting though.

The new Professor moved in her chair as though to stand up and make an announcement, however before she had risen half-way out of her seat, the Headmaster had quickly clapped his hands and announced, "Let the feast begin!" When the mountains of food had suddenly appeared on the tables the noise in the Great Hall increased exponentially as the students started conversing loudly with one another and the sound of utensils being scrapped filled the air as everyone filled their plates. Leaving Professor Umbridge, Harry noticed, to level an icy glare towards the Headmasters direction before settling back down into her seat.

"The other staff members don't seem to like the new Professor." Hermione observed as she poured herself a glass of iced-tea.

"That's not surprising, considering the Minister is the one who appointed her to the position." Neville spoke from across the table from Harry and to Hermione's left.

"The Minister?" Hermione repeated with a frown. "How do you know that? Are you saying she isn't _actually_ a Professor?"

Neville shook his head minutely as he finished chewing his food. His voice shook slightly as he spoke at the numerous pairs of eyes that were now trained on him, eager for more information. "No, she's actually the Undersecretary to the Minister – and I know because my Gran is on the Board of Governers. The board wasn't happy with the Minister interceding and giving the post to someone who doesn't have any teaching experience in her background, let alone someone who isn't even _qualified _for the post. Gran said Umbridge didn't even get an Acceptable grade on her DADA NEWTs! Can you believe that? But they were unable to overrule the decision considering there weren't any other potential candidates applying for the position. And it isn't like the board can go against Fudge in the first place, considering the Board of Governors _is_ under the Ministry."

Hermione's mouth just hung open in disbelief, before quickly morphing her features into righteous anger once the initial shock had warn off. "What! I can't – that's just ridiculous! There really were no other candidates for the position?"

"Why would there be?" Ron grumbled through his mouthful of food. Only swallowing when Hermione glared at him in disgust and annoyance for his atrocious manners. Neville just sighed in relief as everyone shifted their focus from him to Ron. "Everyone knows the job is cursed. Only an idiot would take the position willingly."

"Is that so?" Tom asked, finally speaking up for the first time since sitting at the table. "I've heard people say it was cursed, but thought it was just an unfounded superstition."

"No, it's definitely cursed." Ron answered, a bit reluctantly as he was still upset that Tom had been sorted into Gryffindor. "We've never had a DADA teacher stick around for more than a year."

"I still don't entirely believe the position is cursed, but the whole matter really is deplorable." Hermione stated as she eyed Tom with a sort of sad, sympathetic look. "Considering the history, you probably would've been better off with your parents teaching you the subject. I have no idea how we're going to pass our defense OWLs with the amount of incompetent teachers we've had." She finished grievously.

"Professor Lupin wasn't incompetent," Harry interjected "and look what happened to him. Neither was Moody – well...the fake Moody anyways." Harry trailed off at the end with a soft whisper since he didn't want anyone to really hear what he said and question his assertion that Moody was an imposter too much.

"You mean something happens to the defense teachers every year that causes them to leave their post?" Tom asked a bit skeptically.

Everyone in the group nodded and started going through the list of defense teachers and their (sometimes tragic) departure from the school. As Harry started to slowly eat his food he noticed that Tom didn't seem convinced that the teaching post was cursed. Harry was also slightly surprised to see a look of mirth grace Tom's features when he was told You-Know-Who was the one who cursed the position in the first place.

When the dessert appeared Tom let everyone know what his thoughts were on the matter. "I highly doubt that there is an actual curse on the defense post. From what all of you have told me about your past defense professors, it seemed it was _inevitable_ for them to lose the position eventually."

"How so?" Harry asked, genuinely curious about Tom's opinion on the whole matter.

"Well, I can already tell that Umbridge won't last more than a year, despite having the Minister's support, just from the facts Neville here as shared with us. Someone who has spent her career, not as an educator, but a Ministry official who doesn't even have an adequate skill for defense, is bound to fail. Her failure stands strictly because of her incompetence, not because of a supposed curse."

"The same goes with the most recent defense teachers as well. Quirrell was attempting to steal a rare artifact – successful or not, he would have been sacked and most likely thrown into Azkaban for attempting such a thing in the first place. Lockhart was a fraud and was bound to fail from his inadequacy even if he didn't _obliviate_ himself. Lupin, although he seems quite suited for the post from what you've all told me – is a _werewolf._ Although that particular ailment shouldn't matter in the first place, it is _illegal_ for werewolves to have a job where it puts them in constant contact with children. His secret would have been revealed eventually. It's actually surprising that he was able to keep his condition hidden for nearly a whole school year. As for –"

"So you're saying that it isn't just coincidence that we keep losing our defense teachers? That it's just their incompetence?" Harry asked quickly, interrupting Tom's lengthy monologue. He didn't know if Tom was going to mention Moody or not, but he did _not_ want to get tangled in the subject and end up getting asked questions that he wasn't comfortable dealing with at the moment – namely the events surrounding the Triwizard Tournament and Voldemort's resurrection.

Tom looked at Harry curiously for a moment, as though he knew Harry's real reasons for interrupting – to avoid the subject of the imposter Professor Moody – _Which is impossible_, Harry thought – before nodding curtly. "Yes, that's my point exactly. And not just from incompetence – some of the defense teachers _planned _on leaving after only a year." Tom looked at Harry pointedly, and he knew that Tom was speaking about Moody.

"If the teachers were selected with more care and thought, this wouldn't be an issue. It seems the administration has gotten lazy in the past few decades when it comes to finding an adequate educator for the subject. Although I'm sure the superstition that it is cursed hasn't helped, this cycle would never have been created if those in charge had been doing their jobs correctly in the first place. I can guarantee that if Umbridge and...oh, lets say...Professor Flitwick, switched teaching posts; that Flitwick would still be around for next year and Umbridge would be gone. Despite the fact that Flitwick would be in the 'cursed' DADA post. Although his specialty is in Charms, Professor Flitwick is also a very talented and world-renowned dueling champion – a Master in Defense and Dueling. He would be more than adequate for the job."

"If you say so." Ron commented shortly with a roll of his eyes, obviously unconvinced by Tom's argument, and proceeded to turn around and converse with Fred and George as he no longer wished to be a part of the conversation.

"I completely agree." Hermione chirped. She was happy to have someone agree with her on this subject for once. Harry was pretty sure that she was the only student in Hogwarts to think the curse on the defense post was just a bunch of rubbish. The only student until Tom arrived, it seems.

"Harry aren't you going to have any dessert?" Hermione asked softly, looking at Harry with a sort of _knowing_ look. "You didn't really eat much dinner."

Harry's jaw tightened as he glared at her. It seemed this conversation happened every year at the Welcoming Feast. "I had plenty of food already. If I wanted dessert I would've had some. I _appreciate_ your concern," Harry's voice was laced with mild sarcasm, "but I don't need assistance to _feed_ myself."

Hermione just huffed in frustration, knowing from past experience with this same topic of conversation that it would only lead Harry to withdraw if she pushed the subject further. Why she continued to bring it up in the first place was a mystery to Harry. Although he shared certain things with his friends, he still considered himself a very private person. Two subjects Ron and Hermione knew he refused to discuss, was his relatives – and food. The latter was only off limits because it would inevitably lead to discussion about his relatives, and Harry enjoyed forgetting their existence the second he stepped foot in Hogwarts – thank you very much.

Ron groaned in annoyance when the last of the dessert disappeared and everyone was ordered off to their common rooms. "Why do we need to help with first years? Can't the sixth year prefects just take care of it?"

"It's part of the responsibilities of being a Prefect, Ron!" Hermione snapped shortly. "It seems I've had to remind you of that several times today, and classes haven't even started yet!"

Ron's cheeks flushed scarlet, either in embarrassment or anger, Harry wasn't entirely sure. Hermione didn't even wait for Ron to respond before turning her attention back to Tom. "I'll escort you along with the first years so you can get a good idea of the layout of the castle on our way to the dorm."

"I appreciate the offer Hermione, but I think I'll be fine with Harry showing me the way." Tom answered before looking down at Harry, who was still sitting down at the table, with a questioning look. "If that's alright with you?"

Harry's mouth opened slightly in shock and confusion, but managed to shut his mouth and nod in agreement as he got up off the table. "Yeah – that's fine, I guess." Tom smiled at him softly.

"Are you sure? Harry tends to take a shortcut. You won't..." Hermione began before Ron hurriedly cut her off.

"He'll be fine Hermione – lets just go help the first years. They're starting to get impatient." Ron asserted as he put his hand on the witches arm and led her toward the group of waiting first years; suddenly eager to take his Prefect duties seriously.

As the students slowly shifted their way through the doors of the Great Hall, Tom leaned in slightly to whisper to Harry, his gaze never leaving the crowds of students or paths they were taking through the castle as Harry led him towards Gryffindor Tower on the seventh floor. "I wanted a chance to speak with you privately before we reached the dorms."

Harry looked at him curiously, knowing he should be guarded about what Tom wanted to discuss, but couldn't help but feel relaxed in the others company. It was the same now as it was when he first saw Tom on the train. There was just something about Tom that seemed familiar, and Harry couldn't help but revel in the relaxed state he fell into when around the other teen. Especially considering all that had happened today. From all that he'd learned about Sirius' trial, to the gossip in the papers and the condescending looks and harsh whispers from the students, he's had a busy day and took whatever comfort he could get. "What do you want to speak about?"

"Last years defense teacher." Tom answered simply. Harry's shoulders tensed. "I noticed that you were uncomfortable when I was about to mention him during dinner. Is it because the student body doesn't believe that he was actually an imposter?"

Harry was uncomfortable with the subject because he didn't like the idea of having a Professor – someone in a position of authority and entrusted with the safety of the students – turn out to actually be an imposter with elaborate plans to kidnap him. He was upset because none of the staff members had noticed that it wasn't the real Mad-Eye Moody who was instructing the students. He was upset because Dumbledore didn't know – and he had supposedly been very close friends to the _real _Moody for a large number of years. How could the Headmaster have been so blind to the imposter that was right under his nose? How could he have been so blind to not have noticed that Harry's life was at risk when his name had been drawn from the Goblet of Fire? Why didn't he do more to ensure Harry's safety?

All the questions made Harry feel uneasy. Even though he'd been put in danger from his other defense teachers since first year, this situation was different. Last year the defense teacher had _actively_ pursued him and planned to put his life in danger. Even though Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort, the man had left him alone for the most part – jinxing his broom was hardly a fully thought out effort to dispose of him. The only harm that had come from Quirrell was when _Harry_ had confronted the man himself – when he had first been expecting to see _Snape_ attempting to steal the Philosopher's Stone. His main goal wasn't to hurt Harry, but to get the stone.

Harry also admitted to himself that the Headmasters oversight could be easily explained away. After all, who would have the audacity to attempt to impersonate an illustrious Auror like Moody? Even with the excuses though, Harry still had the feeling of unease. The same unease he now felt whenever he was in the Headmasters presence. He didn't have an explanation for it – only the fact that the unease was _real. _

Despite the large amount of water he had consumed during dinner, his throat suddenly felt too dry and he didn't even think he could explain all this to Tom even if he felt comfortable sharing it in the first place. So instead, he ducked his head and gave a slight shrug of his shoulders in response.

Tom seemed a little annoyed with his non-verbal response, but when he spoke, his voice was soft. When Harry glanced a look at his eyes the annoyance was fleeting as it was gone only seconds after it appeared. "Hm. Well I hope I haven't made you uncomfortable by bringing it up. I just wanted to say that despite what the rest of the students say, I believe you. I'm not going to bombard you with questions – which is probably what you were expecting, yes?"

"Yes." Harry mumbled softly, voicing his answer so he wouldn't annoy Tom again, even though he would have preferred to just shrug his shoulders once more.

"Well, I'm not. If, however, you felt the need to discuss it – or anything else for that matter – then I'm willing to help...if you'll accept it, of course."

Although Harry felt he'd been taken completely off guard by the offer as he shot Tom a surprised look, he couldn't help but feel happy with Tom's words. "Thanks Tom, I really appreciate that." Harry answered softly.

Harry focused his gaze ahead of them as they approached the portrait of the Fat Lady – who guarded the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. He pointed the portrait out to Tom and explained that it was opened with a password that changed a least once on a weekly basis. "New passwords are posted in the common room in the mornings – but McGonagall likes to change them in the evenings right after curfew to discourage students from wandering the castle after hours. There's been a few students who've ended up spending the night in the corridor because of that." Harry informed Tom before speaking the password and stepping through the portrait hole.

Harry smiled happily as he stepped inside the common room. The feeling of familiarity bringing him comfort as he was once again in a place he considered home. Tom was separated from Harry once they entered the common room as he was surrounded by a small crowd of curious students and immediately bombarded with greetings and questions about his arrival at Hogwarts and the curious way the sorting hat behaved.

Due to his other housemates distraction, Harry was able to quickly make his way to the fifth year boys dormitory without any hassle. He immediately noticed that a sixth bed had already been added to the dorm room, with Tom's trunk placed at the end of it. Usually Harry had the bed that was at the farthest end of the room next to the window. Instead the beds were arranged with Tom at the far end, with Harry in the middle and Neville at the front. On the right side of the room was the door to the toilets and showers at the far end, followed by Seamus' bed, then Dean in the middle with Ron's at the front across from Neville.

Despite his fatigue, Harry immediately opened his trunk and started putting his things away. His school uniform, robes and other clothing going into the small wardrobe on the left side of his bed, and his books, parchments, notebooks, inkwells and quills were quickly organized in the built-in shelves and drawers of his desk that was on the right side of his bed.

While sorting through his things Seamus, Dean and Neville, had entered the dormitory as well. Neville greeted him happily while Seamus and Dean started sorting through their trunks tensely. Harry wasn't very close to Seamus or Dean but he still considered them his friends. Considering they had all been living in the same dorm for the past four years, he'd hoped they knew better than to believe what was being written in the papers. The tense atmosphere in the room seemed to indicate otherwise.

"Hey, how come my trunk isn't next to yours?" Ron asked the moment he walked into the dorm room, about 15 minutes later, eying the sleeping arrangements in apparent distaste. "I _always_ get the bed next to yours, Harry."

"Marek's bed was added in." Neville commented as he moved his toad, Trevor, from his bed to the big rock on the corner of his desk. "I guess it changed the sleeping arrangements. My bed used to be by Dean's, but it's not really a big deal."

Ron glared as he eyed the brand new and immaculate trunk that belonged to Thomas Marek. "What? They've already got a bed added for him already?"

"Of course, Ron." Harry sighed in exasperation as he flung his bed curtains open before plopping down on the red coloured comforter that covered his bed. "Where did you think he was gonna sleep?"

"What? I didn't mean –" Ron huffed. "I thought he was a seventh year! Didn't you see how bloody tall he his?"

Harry raised his eyebrows at the red head incredulously. "Hermione knew what year Tom was in before meeting him on the train. So I'd assume it was mentioned in the Prefect meeting that _you _attended."

"Tom also said he was entering fifth year when I spoke to him on the train as well." Neville piped in as he crossed through the dorm room and toward the showers, his bag of toiletries clutched to his chest.

"_And_ it was mentioned at the Sorting when Tom's name was called." Harry pointed out as Ron's eye started to twitch in irritation. "Weren't you paying attention at all? Tom enrolled at Hogwarts for the sole purpose of taking his OWL's _and_ NEWTs. It's sort of the whole point –"

"Okay, I _get it _already!" Ron snapped back in annoyance. "Apparently it was mentioned _several_ times, but no – poor Ron was too _stupid_ to understand such things!"

Harry's brows furrowed in confusion. "Ron, I never said you were stupid –"

"But that's what you meant, wasn't it?" Ron growled as he threw a handful of socks he was pulling out of his trunk onto the ground in irritation. "I saw your face when you looked at my Prefect badge! You were surprised that I had it at all! You think I'm like Grabbe and Goyle, don't you? Too slow and thick-headed to handle being a Prefect let alone know what _bloody year_ that damn Marek is in."

"Of course I was surprised!" Harry yelled back. "You didn't even tell me about it! You didn't write me at all this summer and you didn't even say anything about it on the train. How was I supposed to react?"

"You were supposed to be happy for me!" Ron growled, before turning to Seamus and telling him to shut up and mind his own business, when the irish boy had opened his bed curtains to tell them to stop yelling at each other and go to bed. "And stop whining about not getting any letters this summer! We already explained why we couldn't – you're just jealous that I'm Prefect and you're not!"

"Jealous?" Harry scoffed. "Why would I be jealous? You don't even deserve to be a Prefect! You don't even fit the qualifications for the position."

"Yes, I do! Otherwise I wouldn't have been made Prefect in the first place. You just can't handle the fact that I'm getting something for once, that I'm _better –_"

"It isn't because your better!" Harry snapped back, jumping out of bed. His voice was thick with anger as he spoke. "Dumbledore _knows_ what you saw in the Mirror of Erised – you aren't Prefect because you _deserved_ it but because he _pitied_ you."

"Will the two of you shut up already!" Seamus yelled as he once again opened up his bed curtains to glare at the two of them. "In case you've forgotten, classes start _tomorrow_ and it's bloody well impossible to get some sleep with the two of you bickering like that! For Merlin's sake, if you want to fight take it somewhere else."

"Stay out of it Finnegan!" Ron roared, as Harry's last remark finally made his temper bubble out of control.

"What's going on here?" A calm voice asked, breaking Harry out of his angry haze to look towards the door where the smooth voice originated from. Tom stood at the door, one hand still on the door knob as he looked over the three teenagers that had stood arguing in the middle of the dormitory.

"Nothing, Marek. We were all just getting back into bed." Seamus answered as he gave Harry and Ron a pointed look in the hopes they'd take a hint and stop arguing.

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly and ducked his head down in mild embarrassment as he realized just how loud he and Ron had been – not to mention some of things that had been shouted while in the presence of his other dorm mates.

"Yeah, bed. Busy day tomorrow after all." Harry mumbled as he turned around to climb back in bed. He sent Neville an apologetic smile as he just noticed the blonde haired teen standing nervously by the shower door, his dripping hair leaving a small puddle of water at his feet. He didn't even take another glance at Ron as he once again burrowed himself under the covers of his bed.

Using his wand, Harry spelled the curtains closed tightly and warded the area surrounding his bed with privacy wards so as to keep anyone else from disturbing him. Due to the hectic day and the wide range of emotions he experienced as a result from all the new information he learned, Harry barely had time to put his wand away before he was fast asleep.

– –


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'd like to remind everyone that not only have I changed events from Harry's summer before 5th year, but I have also made changes in events during his 4th year as well. The changes made will be revealed as the story progresses.

Please read the A/N at the end of the chapter as well. Thank you.

Chapter 2

Harry had an unpleasant wake up the first morning at Hogwarts. He had slept well, better than he had all summer in fact, but his sore and aching muscles had woken him up from his restful sleep. Harry figured it was due to the fact that he had been so sedentary all summer due to being locked up in his room the entire holiday. He didn't think pacing back and forth in his room adequate exercise, so he knew he shouldn't be surprised that all the physical activity of rushing towards the train station and lugging around his heavy trunk the first half of the day had a bit of a toll on his body. Not to mention the long trek from the carriages to the great hall, then dragging himself all the way up to the seventh floor of the castle, was a little too taxing for his under used muscles to handle. He knew it would take his body about a week or so to adjust to the hustle and bustle of student life and navigating all over the school from class to class. But he also knew it would be very unpleasant as well while he adjusted and he wasn't looking forward to it.

It took far too long in Harry's opinion to walk over to the showers as his muscles slowly stretched and relaxed with use. The discomfort was well worth it once he was under the hot spray of the showers, the heat and steam helping him to wake up further and relax the ache in his body to the point where he barely felt any discomfort at all when he emerged from the dorm twenty minutes later and settled down in an armchair in the common room.

The common room was empty due to the early hour in the morning. When he had finished with his shower and seen that his dorm mates were still sleeping soundly behind their bed curtains, Harry had cast a tempus charm to show it was half past four in the morning. Harry was surprised at the early hour considering he didn't feel sluggish or fatigued at all, despite the unpleasant way he had been roused from sleep. So it was with some surprise, as Harry sat in the common room working on his neglected summer homework, that he saw Tom emerge from the dorm room just a few minutes past five.

"Good morning, Harry." Tom greeted, taking a seat in the armchair across from Harry. "I honestly didn't expect anyone else to be up at this hour."

"Morning, Tom." Harry answered back as he set down his quill. "I didn't think I'd see anyone either. Hermione is usually the first one up but she generally doesn't make an appearance until six or so."

"I myself am an early riser." Tom commented as he looked over the pile of textbooks and parchments in Harry's lap. "I didn't hear you get up though. How early do you usually wake up?"

"I don't usually." Harry grinned. "I generally get up a little before eight on week days. I just had some trouble getting back to sleep and figured I'd get started on my summer assignments."

"How much of it do you have left? The school gave me the list of summer essays to complete once I was enrolled. I can lend you some of my notes if you like." Tom offered as he opened his bag to pull out a folder.

Harry shook his head. "No, no that's alright Tom. I prefer doing my own work, I can handle it fine...but they actually made you do the summer assignments? Even though you just enrolled? That's mad!"

Tom chuckled as he slipped the folder back in his bag. "Perhaps, but it is understandable. This is our OWLs year after all. There's a lot to be preparing for."

Harry mentally groaned at the thought of all the study sessions Hermione was going to set up and the complicated planners filled with timetables detailing outrageous study schedules she was going to give him. "I know. That's why I'm hoping to get this done soon, so I don't have to worry about doing this as well as all the work the teachers are bound to load us down with."

"How come you weren't able to get it done over the summer holiday?" Tom inquired.

Harry shifted uncomfortably at the question. He's never had to deal with this before since he was always able to get his summer essays completed on time. He knew people – teachers especially, were going to ask why he would be turning them in late. He knew the teachers wouldn't accept the true answer – they'd think he was lying or assume it was a bad attempt on his part to explain laziness. But the way Tom asked about it, he didn't seem like he would judge or jump to conclusions. If Tom didn't blindly follow the printings in the daily prophet, why would he blindly follow the same assumptions others would make? But how could he know for sure? It's not as though he knew Tom very well.

"I wasn't able too." Harry answered vaguely.

"How so?" Again, Tom asked the question as though he was just curious and not looking for a way to condemn him or judge him. Harry decided to take a gamble and just tell the truth. What else could he say to Tom without sounding like a lazy oaf? He definitely didn't want Tom to have that impression of him.

"My...relatives...don't really like magic." Harry answered slowly as he watched Tom to see if he had some sort of negative reaction to that comment. When nothing untoward was forthcoming from Tom's countenance, Harry pushed forward. "So whenever I return during the summer my stuff tends to get locked away. Though it usually hasn't been a problem. In past summers I only spent a few weeks with my relatives before spending the rest of the holiday elsewhere – then I'm able to actually go through my books and do the assignments properly."

"And you weren't able to do that this summer?"

Harry only shook his head in response.

"On the train you said your communication was cut off with the wizarding world. I'd assume your summer arrangements is related to that in some way?" Tom asked.

Harry thought of how Fred and George apparently overheard Dumbledore saying it had something to do with what happened in the graveyard. Although, Harry wasn't sure how Voldemort's resurrection would make Dumbledore want to keep him so isolated. If anything, Harry would think the Headmaster would want him in headquarters the moment the blood wards were set so that he could be protected easier. In fact, Harry thought that being so isolated from all contact with the wizarding world just put him in _more _danger.

"I'm not entirely sure." Harry decided to answer honestly. What was wrong with admitting that he didn't really know? "I assume it has something to do with Voldemort, but I don't know the actual reason why."

Tom gazed piercingly at Harry for several long seconds after his answer, as though trying to determine if he was lying or not. Harry was reminded eerily of his second year after he and Ron had drove Mr. Weasleys car into the Whomping Willow – how the Headmaster had gazed at him with those normally twinkling blue eyes filled with disappointment, as though he was staring right through his body and straight to his very core.

"That seems reasonable." Tom answered slowly, though his eyes had softened again as though satisfied with Harry's answer. "I'd imagine with Voldemort returning to power that the Headmaster would do whatever is necessary to keep you protected."

Harry nodded in agreement as he picked up his quill and went back to working on his essays, but not before noticing how Tom had given him a puzzled look as though Harry's simple nod of the head was actually a complex secret code he had to figure out.

It was a few hours later, after all the other students started waking up and getting ready for the day, that Harry headed down to the Great Hall with his fellow Gryffindors for breakfast and to get their class timetables. Hermione had been the first to emerge from the girls dorms and had immediately questioned Harry about why he was only working on his summer assignments now. It didn't take much for Hermione to understand his situation, and she dropped the matter soon after, saying that Harry always had is essays completed on time before and knew that he wasn't being lazy or procrastinating like Ron usually does. It probably helped when Harry showed her that three of his essays already had a completed outline and was working on the fourth.

Ron had arrived at the table for breakfast just in time for the morning post to arrive. The red-head sat next to Hermione and began piling food on his plate. He shot Harry a few odd looks throughout breakfast but didn't say anything. Harry didn't think Ron was still angry over their fight last night, but probably felt just as awkward and unsure of what to do or say as Harry did. Both of them had said things last night that they didn't really mean, and where now unsure of how to rectify their mistake.

Although, Harry did find it curious that Ron was wearing another set of robes that were brand new – and actually looked _tailored._ Which was very unusual for the Weasleys, who always lacked adequate amounts of galleons. He assumed the Weasley twins bought them for Ron. When Harry gave them his tournament winnings he had said to buy Ron some new dress robes – they probably just went a little overboard with the conditions Harry had set for giving them the gold in the first place.

"Harry, look!" Ginny exclaimed as she indicated towards the owls fluttering through the air. "It's Hedwig!" Harry followed the direction of her gaze, smiling brightly when he saw the beautiful white feathers of Hedwig. His chest swelled as he realized just how much he had missed her company back at the Dursleys. He didn't regret leaving her though – he knew she would be taken care of, and as she landed gracefully in the center of the table, he noted how she had never looked so healthy and strong before.

"That's a big parcel." Hermione commented curiously as she helped Harry relieve Hedwig of her burden, before Harry started petting her feathers and feeding her several strips of bacon to convey just how much he had missed her. In turn, Hedwig had started preening a few locks of his dark hair and nipping at his fingers affectionately.

"Who'd be sending you anything anyway?" Ron asked as he swallowed a rather large mouthful of eggs. "You rarely get any letters, let alone packages – especially on the first day of school."

"_Ronald!_" Hermione scolded. "Stop being so insensitive – and _stop talking with your mouth full._"

"It's from Sirius." Harry whispered excitedly as he saw his name in the familiar scrawl of his godfather, choosing not to acknowledge Ron's tasteless comment. He grabbed his wand and shrunk the package before slipping it into the inner breast pocket of his robe for when he was able to open it in the privacy of his dorm.

"Looks like I'm not the only one to get lots of mail today either." Harry pointed out as a fierce, red-tailed falcon landed on the table, with a significant amount of envelopes clutched in its talons. The envelopes were settled in front of Tom quickly before the falcon took off once more.

"It's from my parents." Tom answered with what seemed to be a bit of an annoyed sigh. "They're used to seeing me everyday after all and sharing the notes on the current research they've been working on. I wouldn't be surprised if they sent me several letters on a regular basis until they've had time to get used to my absence." He shrugged before stashing the pile of envelopes into one of his robe pockets. Harry merely rolled his eyes when he saw Ron's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"They share their research with you?" Hermione's eyes seemed to glisten in excitement. "Oh, that's fantastic – of course they'd share with you. Do you think I can look at some of their notes as well? You said they were in Egypt again and I was completely fascinated with the _last_ book they wrote about those runic –"

"I'd be more than happy to share their notes with you, Hermione." Tom interrupted with a pleasant smile on his face. "However, my parents like to keep everything within the family until they've compiled their research and decided what they'd like to publish. It is their livelihood after all. It wouldn't do if I started handing their notes out to people." Tom explained with a slightly apologetic tone.

Hermione's mouth seemed to flounder for a bit, before she blushed and cleared her throat. "Of course, Tom. You're absolutely right – I don't know what I was thinking."

"Don't worry about it, Hermione. I completely understand your enthusiasm to learn as much as you can. My parents work can be quite engrossing."

Hermione nodded in agreement before shifting her focus back on Harry. "I know you're excited about what Sirius sent – but can you _please_ promise me that you'll send anything back that's...well...you know – _dark_." The last word was spoken in a sort of panicked whisper.

"Sirius never sent me anything _dark. _Why would he start now?" Harry asked a little defensively.

"You know what I mean." Hermione huffed in annoyance. "The books he sent you last year to use for the Tournament were _illegal_. You're lucky the Headmaster simply confiscated the books from you instead of _expelling_ you."

"Just because the Ministry says they're dark, doesn't make it true." Harry grumbled. "I didn't even know those books were illegal until after I used those spells in the duel. I don't even know _why_ those spells are considered dark. How are offensive spells _bad?_"

"You used illegal spells in the Tournament?" Tom interjected, looking slightly amused at the thought.

"Like I said, I didn't know they were illegal." Harry tried to explain, feeling a little annoyed that he had to keep repeating himself whenever the subject came up. "For the second task, all the champions had to duel each other at once."

"So it was a four-way duel." Tom clarified.

Harry nodded. "Yes, and because I was the youngest in the Tournament, I knew I was severely disadvantaged. The other champions had a whole repertoire of spells they could use that I hadn't even learned yet. So I asked my godfather if he had any books that could help me out."

"These are the _illegal_ books Hermione was referring to, I assume."

"Yes, but like I said, I didn't know they were illegal –"

"I'm not saying you _knew_ they were illegal." Hermione interjected. "I just think that _Sirius _should have known better than to send them to you. Even if you didn't know, there isn't any reason why Sirius wouldn't. They came from the Black Library after all; everything in there is dark. The Minister of Magic was present during the duel, and if he recognized any of the spells you used, you would've been in serious trouble!"

"Nobody recognized what spells they were simply because there was no reason for them to have been labeled dark in the first place." Harry insisted. "After all, _you _didn't think anything of them."

"If you don't mind me asking – what books are you talking about specifically?" Tom inquired.

"Volumes two, three, five and eight of the _Dietrich's Art of Dueling_ series." Harry recalled. Tom's brow rose in mild surprise, and if Harry wasn't mistaken, Tom seemed slightly impressed as well.

"That's quite a remarkable series to have had in your possession. I know volumes two and five are extremely rare. It's no surprise that you were able to win the duel, despite your obvious disadvantages, with _Dietrich's_ books at your disposal. Anthony Dietrich, the author, was a very well known spell crafter in his day. His ideas were creative and abstract –it's why he was such an amazing duelist as well. He saw the art and skill of dueling in a very different light than what is usually taught. It's because of him that Durmstrang earned the reputation for producing some of the best duelers – of course, that was only when _he_ was the Defense and Dueling Professor at Durmstrang." Tom added musingly.

Harry nodded, surprised that Tom knew so much about the author. "I agree – his spells are definitely amazing. I could hardly believe that one man could create so many different spells!"

"You're forgetting that those spells are _dark_, and outlawed for a reason." Hermione interjected sternly.

"If spells are outlawed for being bloody amazing, then yeah – they're definitely dark!" Ron grinned. "You have to admit some of the things Harry did _were_ pretty cool to see."

"It's a shame you probably won't ever get the books back from the Headmaster – I would have enjoyed being able too look through those volumes." Tom stated, seemingly unaware of the scowl Ron shot towards him for speaking up again. "What's more impressive than the actual spells is the calculations Dietrich formed."

"Well, I don't know much about the spell calculations, but I know that Dumbledore gave the books back to Sirius." Harry absentmindedly pushed his food around his plate in silent contemplation. "If you really wanted to look at them I could see if Sirius could send them again."

"You will do no such thing, Harry James Potter!" Hermione screeched as she slammed her fork down on the table. Several of the other students looked their way and Harry glared at her for drawing attention to them. Hermione took a deep breath and made a conscious effort to keep her voice down. "The Headmaster confiscated those books because they are illegal and _not_ allowed inside Hogwarts. You can't just have Sirius send them back to you – do you want to get suspended, or possibly expelled?"

"You know that full body shield I used near the end of the duel when it was just Victor Krum and I left on the field?" Harry asked, assuming Hermione's questions were rhetorical and didn't need a response.

Even though the question was directed towards Hermione, Ron nodded enthusiastically anyways; seemingly appreciative of the change in conversation to something he could easily participate in. "The one that didn't budge against Krum's fiendfyre? That was _brilliant!_"

Harry grinned despite the scandalized look Hermione was giving them for having the audacity to talk about something illegal like it was the best thing in the world. "That was called the 'Last Resort Encasement Shield'. It's sole purpose is to _protect_ but apparently it's illegal and considered _dark_." Harry directed that last part towards Hermione, who still looked horribly put out and upset that she wasn't being taken seriously. "Why would something like that be harmful?"

"Because!" Hermione took a deep breath as she tried to control her exasperation. "Even though the spell itself isn't harmful, you're still using _dark magic_ to cast it."

Harry reared back in complete bewilderment. "What are you –"

"Fifth years, here's your timetable." McGonagall announced as she sidled up to their portion of the table; blindly shoving the timetables to the fifth years as she seemed to struggle with the amount of parchment she was holding and trying to keep everything organized.

"And Ms. Granger," their Head of House leveled a reprimanding look on the brown haired witch "please remember that we are in the Great Hall, not the Quidditch Pitch. There's no reason to be making such a racket – especially this early in the day." Hermione blushed, unused to receiving any sort of reprimands from the Professors. "And you, Mr. Potter. I do hope you are staying out of trouble – it is only the first day after all."

"Hermione, what did you mean by actual 'dark magic'?" Harry asked lowly when Professor McGonagall had migrated down the table from their area.

"I'll give you the books to read about it later." Hermione answered a little distractedly as she looked over their class schedule. Harry just sighed as he imagined having to go over some rather large tomes Hermione had in her collection. "But we've got to head up to the Tower and get our books, the first class starts soon – History of Magic." Ron groaned in despair.

Despite the fact that Harry hadn't completed his summer assignments yet, he didn't have any troubles with Professor Binns at the beginning of class – not that Harry expected the Professor to make a fuss about it anyways. Considering he's a ghost with hardly any situational awareness, Harry would've been shocked if Binns actually engaged Harry – or any other student for that matter – in any type of actual conversation.

Unfortunately, Snape wasn't as understanding when Harry arrived at his second class for the day – double Potions. Harry had immediately been assigned a detention and a deduction of 20 house points. Harry didn't even bother trying to explain his summer situation – the greasy bat wouldn't listen anyway.

Even though he was used to the unfair, and sometimes cruel way Snape treated him, he felt that the detention was a bit harsh for the greasy potions master. Not only did Snape give Harry a detention the first day of classes, the dour Professor didn't give Grabbe or Goyle detentions even though they didn't have their assignments finished either.

"Does the Professor always show such blatant favoritism?" Tom whispered as they neared the end of class, once Snape's hawk-like gaze had fell from them as he made his rounds around the room to check the students' cauldrons.

Their potion work for the day was to correctly brew the Draught of Peace. Because of the revision Harry had completed this morning as he worked on his Potions essay, he felt pretty confident that he'd be able to brew it correctly. If only he could get his hands to stop shaking.

Harry merely nodded in response to Tom's question as he tried to once again measure the correct amount of hellebore syrup.

"Are you feeling alright?" Tom asked as he noted the jerky way Harry's hands seemed to move.

"Yes – fine. Just a bit tired I guess." Harry shrugged, hoping the subject would be dropped as he made the final clockwise stirs required for the potion. If done correctly, the potion was supposed to turn turquoise blue and emit a slight silver vapor. When Harry compared his potion to Tom's – who seemed to know the potion off the back of his hand considering he didn't even open his textbook – Harry noted that although his potion was technically a turquoise blue, it was a shade or two lighter than Tom's and what colour it was actually supposed to be. And instead of a silver vapor, the fumes coming off the cauldron was slightly pink in colour.

"Looks like you put in just a tad too much of powdered moonstone." Tom explained as he saw Harry's confused look as he tried to determine what he did wrong. "If you were to drink the potion you would probably be a bit drowsy – otherwise it seems you did everything else perfectly."

"_Silence_ in the classroom." Snape drawled as he appeared before their workstation. The man swept his dark eyes critically at their cauldrons before directing a menacing sneer towards Harry. "Mr. Potter – it seems your arrogance and _laziness_ has reached levels of infinite proportions I didn't think you would be capable of."

Harry mouth gaped open incredulously. "What? I don't –"

"Did you think you could get away with _cheating_ in my classroom? If you weren't so incompetent in the art of potion making, I probably wouldn't have caught you in the first place." Snape eyes gleamed darkly as he whipped his wand out from his sleeve and vanished the entire contents of Harry's cauldron. "And cheating off a new student, no less." Snape droned.

Harry felt a swell of anger rush through his chest and tried to ruthlessly crush it down. Last year he had resolved to never rise to the man's bait and lose his temper. "Professor, I didn't cheat. I just followed –"

"You've just earned yourself another detention, Mr. Potter; for the next four weeks." Several of the Slytherins could be heard stifling their laughter on the other side of the room. Hermione just gave Harry an apologetic look, while trying to keep Ron from doing something stupid as his face had coloured with anger. Tom's face was perfectly blank, but there was also a certain _look_ in his eyes that betrayed his calm and seemingly uncaring exterior.

"Normally, students are to report directly to the Headmaster for expulsion as a consequence for cheating." Snape continued as he attempted to eviscerate Harry with his glare. "However, since I am unable to provide adequate evidence to satisfy the Headmaster – not that he would properly punish his _Golden Boy_ if I did – I will have to ensure you are disciplined accordingly. _50 points from Gryffindor._"

The Slytherins had finally succumbed and burst out laughing as they saw the disbelief and anger on many of the Gryffindors faces.

Before Harry could say anything – which he would later realize was probably a good thing since he was consumed with rage and slight mortification that he had _a whole month_ of detentions with the horrible man, and wouldn't have helped the situation if he had opened his mouth – Snape had turned around swiftly, black robes billowing as he strode to the front of the classroom.

"Class dismissed!" Snape snarled as he swept his wand towards the door, unlocking it and opening it so forcefully it nearly knocked Neville off his chair.

Harry barely had any appetite as he sat down in the Great Hall for lunch. He was only half way through the first day of the school year and he had already lost 70 house points, and earned detentions for four weeks. It seemed almost surreal. The last time he had made such a bad start to the school year was back in second year when him and Ron stole Mr. Weasley's flying car. But this seemed much worse than back then – he didn't even do anything wrong this time.

Thinking that he was going to earn even more punishments from his Professors due to his late summer work, Harry had pushed aside his plate and once again started working on his essays.

"I'm reporting this to McGonagall before dinner." Hermione informed them.

"It's not necessary." Harry murmured as he crossed out and rewrote a sentence on his essay. "You know nothings been done about Snape's unfair treatment towards us in the past – why would anything be done about it now?" Not to mention that it seemed the entire Gryffindor house already knew about the incident in Potions class – that amount of lost points just doesn't go unnoticed without somebody asking questions. Harry would be surprised if McGonagall _hadn't_ heard about it yet.

"So this behavior is normal?" Tom questioned.

"More or less." Harry shrugged as he flipped through last years Transfiguration textbook.

"It may be true that Snape treats you unfairly, but it hardly goes unpunished like you suggest." Hermione pointed out as she indicated towards the Head Table. Professors McGonagall and Snape looked to be in an intense argument within the confines of a silencing ward. "I'm certain that your detentions will be retracted by the end of the day. There's no way McGonagall will stand by and allow that to happen."

Ron scoffed. "You know that's not true 'Mione. There have been loads of times where Harry's been assigned unearned detentions and nothing as been done about it." He shot a dark glare towards the potions professor. "Every time McGonagall just yells at Snape – like now – and ends up just giving points to Gryffindors for the most ridiculous things in an attempt to cancel out what the greasy git has done. Yeah, our Head of House makes an effort to stand up to Snape – sort of – but at the end of the day Harry still ends up in detention."

"So this has been going on for years, and nothing has been done to correct it." Tom's face was still perfectly blank as he too, watched the silent argument between the Professors at the Head table. "I'm surprised he hasn't been sacked if that's the case. Although I understand Professor Snape's desire to maintain complete control over the classroom, considering how dangerous potion making is, his methods make the situation more volatile when he uses cruelty and favoritism as a way to maintain control. His fear tactics hinder the educational aspects – which is completely unacceptable. No wonder Hogwarts has the lowest Potions scores in Europe. Is the Headmaster unaware of these things, or does he just brush it off like the rest of the teaching staff seem to have done?"

"Who knows what the Headmaster's thinking – why he trusts the old bat is a mystery to me."

"Ron!" Hermione scolded. "Despite Professor Snape's failings, he is a great potions master, and the Headmaster obviously trusts him for a reason." Hermione concluded with unwavering certainty on the matter before turning to focus her attention back to Tom. "And what are you saying about the Potions scores being low? I thought Hogwarts was the best wizarding school in Europe."

"With overall low scores on OWLs and NEWTs in certain subjects – not just Potions – Hogwarts is no longer technically considered the number one wizarding school. It is still only considered the best because of Hogwarts' ancient reputation, but isn't based on current academic statistics. Before Professor Snape became the schools Potions Master, the Professor was a wizard by the name of Horace Slughorn. When Slughorn was Professor, nearly 90% of all students passed their Potions OWLs and NEWTs with at least an Exceeds Expectations. Ever since Snape took the post, however, only a small hand full of students actually sit to take the Potions NEWTs and then, only a few of that small number get an Exceeds Expectations or Outstanding." Tom expounded while Hermione looked at him with her mouth dropped open in shock. "I had wondered why the scores were so low since Professor Snape is considered one of the best Potions Masters in Europe. Though, after witnessing the man teaching today it isn't any wonder why so many students drop the subject after finishing their OWLs."

"That's insane! Are you sure what you're saying is accurate? Where did you learn all that anyway?" Hermione blustered in horrified disbelief; distraught at what she was hearing.

"I got all of that from looking at the schools public records. At the end of each academic year, the school is required to send certain financial and academic information to the Ministry. I'm certain Hogwarts stores those records as well."

"If what you are saying is true then it's outrageous nothing has been done to address the problem!" Hermione proclaimed. Ron was shifting in his seat uncomfortably, looking a little lost and confused by the conversation. "Professor Snape has never been the most pleasurable person to be around, but I assumed the other staff put up with his behavior due to his phenomenal work as a Potions Master. The fact that he produces such low scores is shocking though! Why would the other Professors put up with something like that?"

"I just think it's because they don't really care all that much." Harry added, a bit distractedly as he was only listening to their conversation with half an ear as he had been focused on getting as much of his summer essays completed as possible. "They never address his blatant favoritism and hostility towards the majority of the students, why would they take an interest in his teaching methods? Why make a huge fuss if a handful of students get a few unearned detentions? It's not like it's the end of the world; no matter how unfair it is."

"It isn't because they don't care -" Hermione began, trying to deny processing even more unsavory information.

"It's because they know they can't do anything about it." Ron interrupted, glaring angrily at his plate as he contemplated the helplessness of the whole situation. It seems he eventually caught on to what they were discussing.

Instead of answering the multitude of questions and concerns Hermione had inquired about, a calculating gleam had flared up in the dark blue depths of Tom's eyes.

* * *

"So what do you think of that Marek fellow?" Ron asked as they slowly made their way down from the Divination classroom.

After lunch Hermione and Tom headed off to Arithmancy while Harry and Ron went to Divination. The amount of fumes filling the classroom had made Harry dizzy and nauseous throughout the entire class. There were several times where Ron had to wake Harry from a slight doze he would fall into at random moments in time. The myriad of scents filling Harry's senses made his eyes feel itchy and his heart to pound in his chest. In all honesty he felt ill and sore; the trek to their DADA class made his legs feel shaky and his skin clammy. He really just wanted the day to be over.

"I think he's brilliant. When I talked to him on the train he said he didn't believe all the rubbish the Daily Prophet had been writing about me." Harry said, slightly out of breath as they descended another staircase.

"Oh...so he told you about that huh?" Ron smiled at him sheepishly. "Er...we wanted to tell you, mate. Really."

Harry just shrugged it off and told him it didn't really matter. He had been more curious about what was happening with Sirius getting a trial. Harry was eager for classes to end so that he could open the package Sirius had sent him – he hadn't had any contact with his godfather the entire summer after all.

"But do you think it's safe to be talking about Sirius in front of him?" Ron asked. "I mean, I guess it's good that he actually believes you about You-Know-Who coming back and everything – but he's new to the school. It's not like we really know him or should trust him with that sort of information."

"It doesn't really matter now. We haven't had to refer to Sirius as _Snuffles_ since last school year. Once the papers found out about Pettigrew still being alive and Sirius' attempts at getting a trial to prove himself innocent, everyone eventually found out that he's my godfather." Harry shrugged. "And all that happened _before_ the summer holiday started. There's been a lot more written in the papers since then from what you've told me – so I don't see anything wrong with talking about Sirius in front of others. Hermione doesn't seem bothered about it either since she talked about him at breakfast , ever since third year there have been several rumors floating around the school about what happened in the Shrieking Shack. Because of that it wasn't really hard for a lot of people to believe Sirius was innocent once Pettigrew showed up – or at least speculate about the possibility."

"Still, even if you think Marek's an okay bloke, I think there's something suspicious about him." Ron scowled and scuffed the heel of his shoe against the floor in irritation. "I still can't believe that he's in Gryffindor."

Harry grinned. "You're just jealous that Hermione has taken a liking to him."

Ron blushed faintly before glaring at Harry, only causing his grin to widen further. "I'm not jealous! There just really is something suspicious about him. I don't believe all that rubbish about his parents sending him all those letters this morning. He's hiding something! And I was right about him being a Slytherin, you know."

Harry raised his eyebrows at his friend incredulously.

"I'm serious! I've heard several of the students say the only reason that the Sorting Hat acted so oddly was because Marek was supposed to be sorted into a different house. He's a slimy snake, I tell you!"

"Sounds like it's just a rumor though – unless Tom said those things himself?"

"Er...no I guess he didn't." Ron grumbled under his breath, upset that Harry wasn't as concerned about the whole matter as he was. "But it makes sense if you think about it."

"Even if he _was_ going to be sorted into a different house, it doesn't mean it was going to be Slytherin. There are two other houses you know. Maybe he was going to be in Ravenclaw, like he told Hermione on the train."

Ron just scowled and gave a slight shrug of his shoulders; upset that Harry obviously wasn't as suspicious about the mysterious Thomas Marek as he was.

As predicted, the rest of Harry's day didn't go too well. Due to the amount of time it took Harry and Ron to arrive to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class, they showed up a few minutes late; interrupting a speech Umbridge was giving the class about how it was her job to uphold Ministry standards in the school. Umbridge immediately assigned the two of them a detention.

Harry was just glad that he didn't have to worry about summer essays for this class as well. Come to think of it, Harry realized he never had summer assignments for this class – something would always happen to the defense professors before they could actually assign any.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley are prime examples of why my presence here at Hogwarts is necessary." Umbridge grinned, flashing her pointy teeth at the two maliciously as they took a seat at the desk behind Hermione and Tom. Her high pitched voice caring easily across the classroom. "It is obvious they lack both respect and discipline – presumably due to the failure the staff have shown in properly disciplining and punishing delinquent students. I am here to rectify those mistakes the Headmaster and other staff members have made. There will be no leniency in my class."

After a boring class of doing nothing but reading through their textbook, Harry had immediately apologized to Ron, since it was his fault they were late to class in the first place. Because it took the full 10 minute break between classes to reach any part of the castle from the Divination Tower, it wasn't surprising that they were late since Harry had walked instead of sprinting down the corridors as they usually did in order to reach their next class on time.

Hermione had lectured them on being late and had asked several questions as to the reason why they were unable to arrive on time. Harry had just shrugged her off, intent on ignoring the questions as he knew that if he told Hermione that he had been feeling ill the whole day, and that it didn't help being assaulted by the onslaught of the ridiculous amount of incense and herbs Trelawny insisted on using, that she would immediately drag him to the Hospital Wing no matter how much he insisted that he was _fine_.

Harry had glared fiercely at Ron when he noticed his red-headed friend wanted to say something to Hermione about Harry's health. The glare was enough to keep Ron silent for now, but Harry knew that if Hermione kept pestering Ron she'd be able to get an answer out of him soon enough. Harry was slightly annoyed when his two best friends seemed to make a big deal out of inconsequential things. But Harry knew he probably felt that way since the fuss was usually only made when it had something to do with _him_ specifically.

When they finally arrived at the Great Hall for dinner, Harry conversed idly with Tom while Hermione and Ron bickered with each other in whispered tones. While chatting, Harry realized that Tom hadn't pestered Harry about his tardiness or the resulting detentions as Hermione and several other students had done. At first, Harry was grateful that Tom respected his privacy. Then, as dinner dragged on Harry noticed how Tom's eyes would shift their gaze to take in the inconsequential details of Harry's shaking and sweaty hands, his raspy breathing and how he fumbled his cutlery as he pushed is food around his plate.

It was then that Harry realized that Tom didn't need to ask him questions. From what Harry had said about not feeling well during potions, how his complexion seemed to pale further as the day went on; Tom had enough to deduce why Harry was late for DADA and why he had trouble with brewing his potion. Tom didn't need to ask questions because he was observant and already _knew_.

That realization made Harry hyper-aware of his body. Every ache and discomfort seemed to increase a thousand fold and he shifted in his chair under Tom's suddenly very heavy gaze. Every time Tom's eyes would flick over his form, Harry would clench his hands tightly around the cutlery to stop the shaking. He forced himself to drink from his goblet and swallow down forkfuls of food instead of pushing it around his plate, despite how heavy the food felt in his stomach. He didn't like that Tom knew how ill he actually was. Harry may have been grateful that Tom didn't bombard him with questions, but somehow, Harry felt he would have preferred all those questions than for Tom to actually _know_.

He did these things because he didn't want Tom to see him as _weak. _For that was what Harry was at the beginning of every school year. Harry didn't understand the reason, not entirely, but he didn't want Tom to see any weakness in Harry. He didn't want Tom to be _disappointed_ in him. It was a completely irrational thought – mostly because Harry didn't know _why _he felt the need to impress Tom. Just like he didn't know why he was so...so _attracted_ to him. He liked it when Tom gave all his attention to Harry – it was as though Tom was fascinated and curious about Harry. Not Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, but Harry, _just Harry_. And that thought made Harry's stomach flutter and coil in a pleasant way.

Perhaps he was scared that Tom would know _why_ Harry was in such poor health in the first place. Was it possible for Tom to know how the Dursleys treated him? It seemed highly unlikely. But that fear of Tom knowing how Harry was treated by his relatives, how he was no longer the Boy-Who-Lived when he left the wizarding world every summer – but was simply _Boy – _convinced Harry that he needed to hide these things to the best of his ability. He didn't want Tom to see him as weak or something to be pitied – no, Harry wanted to _impress _him.

As Harry observed Tom's graceful movements; the straight, confident posture he always held; the depths of intelligence that pooled in his eyes and the smooth deep tones of his voice; Harry finally realized something.

Harry wanted Tom to be as enthralled with him, as he was with Tom.

* * *

Taking a few deep breaths, Harry stared at the dark door that led to the Potion's classroom. Hermione had been wrong – Professor McGonagall didn't do anything about Harry's undeserved detentions. Even when Harry had tried to explain that he _didn't_ cheat when the stern witch had cornered him on his way out of the Great Hall, she had merely given Harry a reproachful and disappointed look and said that there was nothing she could do – that it wasn't professional for the staff to contradict each other over such matters. After warning him to behave and do his best to not antagonize Snape _or _Umbridge, Professor McGonagall had given him a parchment letting him know the time and dates of his detentions.

It seemed that he would have detention with Snape Monday-Thursday at 7pm sharp for the next four weeks. His detention with Umbridge wouldn't be until that Saturday afternoon. Even if Harry didn't want to spend part of the weekend in detention, he was just grateful that he didn't end up with two detentions in a single day.

The only good thing to lighten Harry's mood as he headed towards the dungeons, was the sight of the Gryffindor hourglass in the Entrance Hall. Every House started with 100 points at the beginning of term, and Harry knew for a fact that the Gryffindors were quite possibly going to be negative due to all the points he himself had lost in a single day. However, it seemed the other Professors disagreed with the generous amount of points Snape had taken from the Gryffindors – despite what McGonagall had said about professionalism. For the number of rubies filling the hourglass showed that the Gryffindors had 60 points. The lowest amount of the four houses – but much better than what it could have been.

After calming down as much as possible and gathering up all the courage he could muster, Harry finally raised his fist and knocked on the door. The curt 'come in' had Harry opening the door and stepping into the damp potions classroom. Harry heaved a sigh of relief when the clock showed he was five minutes early.

Snape was sitting stiffly in his high back chair behind his desk, a quill in his hand as he made marks in his student ledger. Harry stepped forward and stood waiting in front of the desk quietly, knowing not to sit down unless Snape gave him permission to do so – which he never did.

Usually Harry had to wait for several long moments before Snape actually acknowledged his presence and informed him of his punishment. Harry assumed it was because the man enjoyed watching his students squirm with worry and anticipation, but he always refused to fidget.

This time, Snape didn't seem to deem it necessary to ignore Harry as his coal coloured eyes had lifted from his ledger almost immediately to pierce Harry with a cold look. "It seems you've managed to get out of trouble again, Mr. Potter. Even though cheating is a serious infraction the Headmaster thinks your time is too valuable to be bothered with such things as discipline."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "What? But I just spoke to Professor McGonagall and she said..."

"Oh, you're still having _detention_ with me Mr. Potter but for different reasons. The Headmaster has deemed it necessary for you to be instructed in the art of Occlumency."

"Occlumency?" Harry's mouth floundered a bit as he pronounced the new, odd word. "What's that? And why do I have to learn it?"

Snape's jaw seemed to clench minutely in annoyance at being bombarded with questions. "Occlumency is the ability to magical shield your mind from outside intrusion. Due to the _connection _you share with the Dark Lord the Headmaster feels it would be beneficial for you to learn to block your mind from his influence now that he has returned to power."

Harry opened his mouth to ask more questions when Snape sneered at him, bringing his hand up to silence him. "_Don't_ interrupt. This is a skill that takes years of dedication and discipline to grasp. Although I have expressed to the Headmaster that you have no capabilities whatsoever for the art, he insisted that you be taught and for me to be the one to instruct you. I'm letting you know now Potter that I won't tolerate your disobedience or your cheek. You will address me as 'Professor' or 'Sir'. My time is limited enough as it is – I don't need you wasting any more of it. You will follow the schedule and arrive here on time and _do as I say_. If there is a change in schedule I will inform you of it."

"So does that mean people can read _minds_? Is that what happens whenever I have those weird dream..er, vision things? Does this have to do with why I wasn't able to come to Headquarters –"

"_Silence!_" Snape spat as he stood from his chair to tower over Harry, anger filling his eyes at the mention of Grimmauld Place. "Don't ask me about your spoiled summer plans to see your precious mutt, since the Headmaster hasn't deemed it necessary to inform me of the details – nor would I _care_ to hear of them. Since the Headmaster wishes to speak with you, you will save those insufferable questions for him. You are to arrive at his office tomorrow evening after we have concluded your Occlumency lesson."

"As for your other questions, mind reading is a concept that is only entertained by _Muggles_. The mind arts are much more complex and precise than most simpleminded fools such as yourself can possibly begin to understand or appreciate." Harry glared at him, biting on his lip to keep himself from voicing his vicious thoughts. "Due to the nature of this magic, it is important that you keep the knowledge of these lessons to yourself. You are not allowed to share this with any of your peers – the consequences would be monumental if the Ministry were to discover these lessons. For now, detention will be your cover for the lessons. If it takes you longer than four weeks to grasp the foundations of the art, we will say you've started Remedial Potions."

Now," Snape finally settled himself back in his chair before indicating to the back of the classroom "you will be scrubbing all the cauldrons that have been ruined by the first years. You may leave when you have finished."

"What? But Sir, you just said I didn't have any detentions! Just these Occlumency lessons, and I still don't completely understand exactly what..." Harry began, stumbling slightly over his words as he tried to express himself as quickly as possible before Snape dismissed him entirely.

"You still owe me for your late summer work, Potter." Snape drawled as a smirk spread across his lips. "Even though I am unable to punish you for cheating –"

"I didn't cheat!"

" –you _will_ be serving a detention tonight. And if you don't understand the art of Occlumency, then you'll just have to wait until tomorrow to see what it's all about, hm? It will take a lot of work and effort to grasp and I refuse to make it easier by allowing you to ask a multitude of questions for answers that you can figure out for yourself. Now, start scrubbing the cauldrons."

He was finally finished cleaning all the cauldrons 15 minutes before curfew started. His arms and shoulders throbbed as he slowly made his way towards the seventh floor, taking as many shortcuts and passages as he could to cut down on the time and hopefully prevent him from still being in the corridors when curfew started. The last thing he needed was more detentions.

All the questions tumbling through his head made his time in detention seem to fly by quickly. Despite the fact that it took him much longer to scrub the cauldrons than it should have. He had felt very weak and nauseous throughout the detention. The steam from the hot water in the sink and the acrid smell of cauldron cleaner had given him several dizzy spells. There were a few times he had actually thought he'd lose consciousness and had needed to grip the edge of the sink tightly in order to keep his balance until his vision cleared.

Even then, the questions still tumbled rapidly through his head. He had so many questions about Occlumency that Snape probably wouldn't answer. He couldn't even ask Hermione about it since he wasn't supposed to tell anyone about these lessons in the first place. Harry decided that even if he couldn't ask Hermione he could still browse through the library in the hopes of getting more information about it.

He was also curious about what the Headmaster wanted to talk to him about. He was usually nervous whenever he was called to the Headmaster's office, but this time his nervousness was accompanied by the same swell of unease that he's come to expect whenever the Headmaster was involved. Harry knew the feelings of caution and general uneasiness was irrational and hoped it would dissipate soon. He didn't think he was in trouble, considering that the detentions for his supposed 'cheating' ended up being a decoy for the Occlumency, he knew it couldn't be about that. Harry figured it was related to the Occlumency lessons specifically. Maybe the Headmaster had an explanation for why this wasn't brought up as an option last year when he first started having those visions of Voldemort.

Harry was still so embroiled in his thoughts that he hadn't even been aware of his arrival to the common room until he heard Ron's cry of outrage, asking what Snape had done to him. Harry was brought back to the present to see Ron standing on his feet and heading his way. Hermione was sitting at a table with Tom, the surface littered in books and parchments, with a worried look on her face.

There were only a few other people in the common room besides the three but they were secluded away in the multitude of alcoves that lined the walls of the tower with the curtain drawn. It seemed Ron, Hermione and Tom had waited up for him to finish with his detention.

"What are you talking about Ron? Snape didn't do anything to me, I just had a detention is all."

"Then why do you look so pale? He must have done something!" Ron insisted.

"Harry maybe you should sit down." Hermione had abandoned her books as she stood up and gestured for Harry to sit on the nearby sofa. "You look like you're going to faint at any moment. Just sit down and I'll fetch Madame Pomfrey for you."

"What? No, I don't need to see Madame Pomfrey. All I did was scrub cauldrons." Harry waved them off as they tried to help him walk across the common room. Harry thought that just because he swayed a bit when he walked didn't mean he needed help to make it to bed. "I just need some sleep, it's been a long day. I'll be good as new in the morning Hermione, trust me." He added when the witch kept insisting that he needed to be checked up on immediately.

"Fine," Hermione sighed. "But you have to promise that if you still feel ill in the morning that you'll head to the Hospital Wing first thing tomorrow."

Harry hastily promised as he slowly made his way up the staircase to the fifth year boys dormitory. While Ron and Hermione had fussed and bombarded him with questions, Tom had merely wished Harry a good nights rest before returning to his work.

Once in the dorm Harry hadn't bothered changing into his pajamas before plopping onto his bed. After kicking off his socks and shoes he pulled his cover robe, shirt and trousers off before throwing them in the laundry bin. Wearing nothing but his black boxers Harry had crawled under his bed sheets before spelling his curtains clothes.

It wasn't until he was completely horizontal that he finally realized how sore his muscles were. If he thought they hurt this morning, this was much worse. His skin was boiling hot to the touch but he felt too cold to sleep over the covers. Harry knew if he wasn't already completely exhausted then it would be nearly impossible to fall asleep with this much discomfort.

When Harry started slipping into sleep a few moments later he finally admitted to himself that maybe he was really sick and that he should have gone to the Hospital Wing. He's had plenty of experience recovering from the Dursleys punishments but this seemed worse somehow. In the past he would feel weak and have hardly any appetite at all, but never has he had to deal with chronic sore muscles or shaking hands or fevers. Harry wondered if maybe this wasn't due to the Dursleys but some sort of virus or bacteria he's caught.

He wasn't able to contemplate the possibilities further as he quickly fell into a deep sleep. Thoughts of Dumbledore, Occlumency lessons, and a certain package from Sirius had been forgotten.

* * *

A/N: In case anyone is wondering, the health problems that Harry is experiencing at the moment are temporary and its relevance will be revealed later.

Please review and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it. I don't have a beta, so if there are any mistakes I didn't catch I apologize in advance. I try to go through and edit but there's bound to be a few things I've missed.

You may have a lot of questions afterward, but please be patient as I work on the next chapter. It might be a week or so before this gets updated since I want to focus more on Riddle's World and Halo this week. Please read the authors note at the end of the chapter as well, thank you!

**Chapter 3**

For the first time in over a year, Harry woke up with a soft smile on his face. Harry basked in the comfort of the soft blankets that covered his form, as he closed his eyes once more to recall the pleasant dream he'd had. He recalled the sensations of long, thin fingers trailing over his face softly as though they were trying to memorize his every feature, while a man's voice hissed soft words into his ear.

Those same long fingers had trailed over his chest, down his arms then over his legs. The aches, tremors and fever he had the night before slowly disappeared as those skilled hands seemed to be rubbing something into his skin, soothing his aches. Harry remembered whispering words as well, speaking with the man in his dreams. Even though he couldn't recall what he'd said, he knew that he felt comfortable and safe with the broad shouldered man that had taken over his dreams that night.

With a soft sigh, Harry finally emerged from his bed and got ready for the day. The soft smile he had woken with stayed on his lips as he showered and dressed in his school robes. Harry's limbs were still slightly sore as he descended into the common room, but he was happy to note that his hands were no longer shaking as he greeted Tom. He wasn't a hundred percent better, but he was feeling exceptionally well compared to the past few days.

"You're up early again." Tom noted as Harry joined him at the small circular table that was nestled in the alcove in the corner of the room. It was five in the morning, and Tom was the only other student up in Gryffindor Tower. The tall teen was surrounded by parchments, ink and quill as he read the stack of letters he had received yesterday morning at breakfast.

"Yeah, I actually slept really well last night." Harry replied as he pulled a few books and a folder from his bag to continue working on his summer essays. Harry noticed that the letters Tom was looking over were spelled with a distorting charm, so that the words on the parchment were blurred and unreadable to the eyes of anyone except for the person who cast the charm. He remembered Ron's suspicious looks when Tom had received the letters, but Harry dismissed it a moment later. Many students and teachers used the distorting charm to prevent cheating and maintain a certain level of privacy. It wasn't all that unusual.

Tom gave Harry a small smile as he picked up his quill. "That's good. You look much better than you did last night."

Harry hummed in agreement as he flipped through his Charms textbook. "Did you always wake up this early when you were being instructed at home?" Harry inquired curiously. He knew that if Ron was being home schooled he wouldn't wake up any earlier than noon if his mum would allow it.

"Yes. My parents have always been early morning people, so it's become very habitual for me as well." Tom ran his fingers over the edge of another envelope, cutting a slit in the top as his finger trailed across. Harry was surprised at the small bit of wandless and wordless magic, even if it was to achieve something as small as opening a letter. "Although I do miss enjoying a cup of tea or coffee as I work. It's a shame breakfast doesn't start until 7."

Harry grinned at Tom. "You don't need to wait for breakfast. Just call Dobby, and he'll bring anything you want from the kitchens." As Harry finished speaking Dobby appeared with a soft crack in front of the table, five hats stacked precariously on top of his bald head.

Tom's brow rose incredulously. "I wasn't aware the house elves responded to students summons."

"They don't." Harry responded after kindly asking Dobby for refreshments and the enthusiastic house elf had popped off to get their drinks eagerly. "Dobby just likes me a lot, especially since I freed him from serving the Malfoys a few years ago."

Tom's brow rise, if possible, even higher at that proclamation. "How did you manage to do that? I know Purebloods like the Malfoys are very protective of their secrets and would be more likely to kill a house elf to end their servitude instead of taking the risk of setting them free and having their family secrets exposed once the house elf is bound to a new master."

Harry shrugged, opening his inkwell and settling his quills on the table. "Well, I had actually tricked Malfoy into setting him free...it's a long story actually," Harry added before Tom could ask about it. He really didn't want to get into the whole Chamber of Secrets debacle at the moment – especially at such an ungodly hour of the morning. "I don't know what you mean about all the secrets though. Dobby never talks about the Malfoys even if you ask about them. Besides, he's still a free elf. He actually gets paid to work here."

Tom's eyes shone in barely hidden glee as the corner of his lips curled slightly. "You're saying Dobby isn't bound to Hogwarts then, and is free to come and go as he wants."

Harry nodded. "Yeah I suppose."

"How interesting." Tom murmured as he returned to focus on his letters, with a small smile spread across his lips. It was odd for Harry to see and he couldn't understand why Tom would be happy about Dobby still being free. Maybe he was just a supporter of elf rights like Hermione was?

Dobby popped back in soon with a tray filled with drinks and various snack items before popping away once more as the two students worked in comfortable silence. 20 minutes later, while Tom was sipping on his tea, and Harry was stirring cream and sugar into his coffee as he struggled to keep focused on his History of Magic essay; Harry noticed a neatly stacked pile of parchments and books on Tom's side, and realized that it was all the assignments they had received yesterday. Tom had already completed them.

It reminded Harry of what Ron had said yesterday after Divination about how Tom was supposed to be sorted into a different House. Harry wasn't sure if the rumors were true, but he did think there was a huge possibility for Tom to have ended up a Ravenclaw. The way Tom had swiftly and easily brewed in Potions yesterday, without once consulting his textbook, and the way Tom was now methodically sorting through his letters and writing out his replies with a swift and steady hand; it was a definite possibility. His assignments for school had probably been completed in the same systematic way.

Harry hated to give in to rumors, and silently cursed Ron for bringing this up in the first place, but Harry had to ask. It was suddenly very important to Harry to find out if Tom was supposed to be sorted into another house. As far as Harry knew, it was very uncommon for the Hat to sort someone in a house that was different from it's original choice. But it had happened to Harry and he was inexplicably eager to find out if it happened to Tom as well.

Although Ron was curious about Tom out of suspicion and a general dislike for the teen, Harry was curious about Tom for entirely different reasons.

"Ron says that many of the students have been talking about you." Harry began, unsure of what to say without sounding nosy, or giving Tom the impression that he was simply gossiping. Harry was hoping that if he brought it up Tom would expand on the subject without further prompting. "Especially about the curious way the Hat behaved when you were being sorted."

Tom hummed in acknowledgment as he opened another letter, the corner of his lips curling up slightly in amusement. "Yes, I'm aware. I must say I wasn't expecting for rumors about my sorting to spread so quickly." He chuckled.

After it became clear Tom wasn't going to elaborate further, Harry decided to just be blunt about it. "I know you've probably been asked loads of times already, but were you supposed to be sorted into another house?"

Tom gazed at Harry for a moment, his face void of any emotion, before giving a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders and focusing back on his letters as he spoke. "Yes, I have been asked that multiple times. I've told several students already that I was simply curious about the way the Sorting Hat worked. I knew it was highly unlikely I would have access to such a powerful and ancient magical artifact again, and I wanted to question the Hat's reasoning for why it thought it best to place me in one house over another."

Harry frowned, shifting slightly in his seat uncomfortably at the dismissive way in which Tom answered. His voice was nearly monotonous in tone and made Harry wonder as to why that was. He realized that Tom didn't really answer his question with a straight yes or no. If it wasn't true, Tom wouldn't have any reason to avoid telling him 'no' straight out. If it was true, then it appeared that Tom was obviously trying to avoid the subject. It reminded Harry of the vague way he had answered Tom's question yesterday morning when the tall teen had inquired about his summer assignments. Harry had been wary of Tom's judgment at first. Maybe Tom was just worried about how Harry would react if he told the truth?

"I was supposed to be sorted into a different house." Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. The quill in Tom's hand halted mid stroke. Tom's dark blue eyes focused back on Harry, curiosity and mild shock flitting through his eyes. "So I don't think it's a big deal if you were as well." Harry finished as he rubbed the back of his neck and fidgeted awkwardly now that he had Tom's complete attention.

"What house were you supposed to be sorted into?"

Harry grinned, shaking his head softly in amusement. "Slytherin, if you can believe it. The Hat said Slytherin House suited me very well and would help me on my way to greatness."

Tom's eyes seemed to flash slightly in excitement, but Harry thought he might have imagined it considering Tom's face was smooth with calm attentiveness the next moment as he delicately drank his tea. "And you asked the Sorting Hat to place you in Gryffindor?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I simply asked to be sorted into any other house besides Slytherin, and I guess the Sorting Hat decided Gryffindor was the best alternative."

"Any other house?" Tom imitated, sounding slightly aghast at the thought. "What reasons would you have for taking your chances with another house, knowing that Slytherin had the capacity to help you thrive?"

Harry ducked his head, unsure of what he should say; or if he should say anything at all. Nobody had ever asked about his reasonings before. When he had told Ron and Hermione about his sorting, they hadn't thought his decision needed a second thought – probably assumed Harry shared their own beliefs and reasons. Ron had his own prejudices against the house of snakes and probably thought anybody halfway decent would move heaven and earth to avoid being sorted there. Harry wasn't entirely sure about Hermione's attitude towards the snakes, but he knew she was wary of the Slytherin students after being called a mudblood.

But of course, Harry's own rationale wouldn't matter, he thought bitterly, because as far as the wizarding world was concerned, he was the 'Boy-Who-Lived', and it was expected of him to be averse to anything that could be perceived as a connection to dark wizards and evil-doers. So of course, it wouldn't be much of a surprise to his two friends once he had told them about the sorting.

"Harry?" Tom spoke softly, startling Harry momentarily out of his thoughts as he lifted his gaze to look at Tom through the fringe of his hair. Only now aware that he had been silent for several moments now.

As Harry's eyes met Tom's dark blue orbs, he suddenly felt an almost overwhelming sense of reassurance flood through him. He suddenly remembered the past conversations he's had with Tom the past two days, and although they've only conversed a handful of times, the discussions, even though they were sometimes quite forward and blunt on Tom's part, were also quite surprising and welcome. And, oddly enough, Harry was reminded of his dream this last night and how safe and comfortable he had felt talking with the man in his dreams.

Harry knew that the original reason for sharing some of the details from his own sorting, was so that Tom would be assured that he wouldn't be averse to whatever Tom disclosed. Harry admitted to himself that he hadn't thought ahead enough to realize that Tom would want more in-depth answers to questions he would undoubtedly have about the whole affair.

Even though Harry knew he would have to answer Tom's questions if he had any hope of getting his own answered, it was still more than he had confided with anyone else before, and that fact left his nerves twittering with anxiety.

"I had several reasons; some of them more relevant than others." Harry began as he sighed while running a hand through his hair as he contemplated on how he should start. Tom just waited calmly as Harry sipped his coffee for a few minutes to organize his thoughts; finally deciding that it wasn't really a big deal to share this with Tom – it was actually nice that someone wanted his view of things for a change.

"When I arrived at Hogwarts I knew next to nothing about the wizarding world." Harry began, figuring Tom would need some context to actually understand his reasons. "I'd only known I was a wizard for about a month before the term started. Not only had I recently found out about magic, I also learned the truth about how my parents died and how I was supposedly the 'Boy-Who-Lived'; famous for somehow defeating a dark lord when I was only 15 months old." Harry's voice had taken on an incredulous tone as he mentioned the last part; having remembered the disbelief he had initially felt when Hagrid had told him about that Halloween night Voldemort had attacked Godric's Hallow.

"So when I had first heard of the four houses, it was while I was on the Hogwarts Express. All the first years were talking about how Slytherin was the house for dark wizards – that it was the house Voldemort was sorted into as well as those who were loyal to him during the war."

"So it was because of Voldemort that you decided to choose a different house?" Tom questioned as he poured himself another cup of tea.

Harry shook his head. "No, actually. I mean, that fact didn't really deter me from the House at all. I wasn't worried I'd suddenly turn into a dark wizard like a lot of the students claimed would happen to anyone who ended up a Slytherin. That whole idea seemed ridiculous to me, to be honest. I was actually more concerned about the fact that many of Voldemort's _followers_ were from Slytherin's House."

At Tom's inquiring gaze, Harry expanded further. "Well, like I said, I knew next to nothing about the wizarding world _or_ the war. Even though I didn't know any of the details of the war, or what it was even over, really – I did understand that there were two sides to the war. That although there were people who 'loved' me for 'defeating' Voldemort, that there would also be people on the other side of the war who would _hate_ me for it. I learned that several of the students – the majority of which were in Slytherin – had parents or relatives who were tried and sent to Azkaban for supporting Voldemort.**"**

"So you decided that it would be unsafe to join the same house where most of Voldemort's followers came from." Tom stated, which Harry agreed to with a nod. "That in itself shows you had potential for Slytherin; self preservation is one of the more notable qualities of that House. Though, you do realize that being in a different House would only protect you so far if a child of a Death Eater was set on seeking retribution?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, I did. But like I said, I had several reasons and that was only one of them. While I was waiting to be sorted, I just _knew_ the Hat would want to put me in Slytherin. I don't know how I knew, I just did. So I was also worried about how the rest of the student body would react if their 'Saviour' were to be sorted in a House that had connections to dark wizards."

Tom hummed thoughtfully. "Yes, I could see how the wizarding community would react badly to the sorting, even though their fear and suspicions wouldn't have been founded on any basis of common sense or reality."

Harry sighed in exasperation. "I know. And if everything that was written in the newspapers last year and this summer is any indication, I imagine it would've been much worse my first year. I mean, even though I knew that Slytherin House was generally looked upon with suspicion and scorn, based on what I learned from the other students on the train, I didn't fully understand the depth of the prejudice until the actual sorting started.

"I remembered whenever a student was sorted, everyone would applaud while they went and joined their house table. I noticed it was different with a student who ended up in Slytherin though. Whenever the Hat shouted out 'Slytherin' I noticed several students would actually glare and sneer in disgust – even a few of the teachers would get a frown on their face as though they were disappointed in the student for being sorted with the snakes."

"I made those same observations as well." Tom remarked softly.

Harry nodded in agreement as he gazed down at his mug, swirling the dark liquid absentmindedly as he tried to put memories to words. "Back then, the behavior confused me. It reminded me of when I first stepped foot in the wizarding world. Hagrid had taken me to the Leaky Cauldron, and when we arrived he started talking to the bartender in a loud voice that he was 'taking Harry Potter to get his school supplies'. All the witches and wizards suddenly wanted to shake my hand and see my scar, while congratulating me and welcoming me back. I had no idea why all that was happening though since Hagrid hadn't told me yet about my parents and that night in Godric's Hallow.

"I remembered how all those witches and wizards had this odd gleam in their eyes – as though they were filled with this blind hope – and they all looked at me to fulfill these unnamed expectations."

"And you felt as though those witches and wizards," Tom began, "who were filled with that blind hope and adoration would be quick to turn to blind hate and fear if you didn't fulfill those expectations."

"Yeah, I suppose." Harry shrugged before taking a long gulp of his luke-warm coffee. "I guess it's fortunate I ended up in Gryffindor, since it seemed to fulfill those expectations."

"I'm assuming you weren't aware that your parents were Gryffindors when they were in school?"

"No, I didn't learn about that until we started flying lessons and I saw a Quidditch trophy with my dad's name on it. I asked Hagrid about it and he told me that they were both the same year in Gryffindor. After that I was glad that I argued with the Hat and ended up in Gryffindor."

"There is something I am curious about." Tom began slowly, as he met Harry's green eyes in strong contemplation. Harry couldn't help but feel wary as he sensed their conversation would be diverging off the current topic. "Of course, you don't have to answer if you are uncomfortable with the subject – however it seems very strange for me to think that you grew up without any knowledge of your parents. Even though your Aunt and Uncle seem to have a great aversion to anything magical from what you said yesterday about them locking up your school things – " Harry cringed at the sudden reminder that Tom knew about that. " – I can't imagine they would keep that information from you out of ignorance. I would assume your muggle relatives would have been informed about the details of your orphaning when you entered into their guardianship."

Harry wrung his hands together tightly, his nerves alight once more while Tom continued to hold Harry's gaze, waiting for a response to his understandable questions. Harry's first instinct was to tell Tom _No, I'm not comfortable with this_ and be done with the matter altogether. However, Harry also had a feeling that if he closed everything off now that he wouldn't get _his_ questions answered – _which was the whole point of all this anyway! _– Harry grumbled to himself, completely irritated by the whole situation.

Harry groaned silently as he decided there really wasn't much he could do but answer Tom's questions. If Harry closed off now, Tom would as well – which meant Harry wouldn't get any of the answers he wanted and everything he has revealed so far would have been for nothing.

"Well, you're right. They weren't ignorant about it at all." Harry ground out bitterly. "They just lied and told me my parents were driving drunk and got in a car accident that killed them both while I was left with nothing but a scar on my forehead. I didn't even think to question their answer since it made so much sense with what I _did _remember about the night they died."

Tom simply stared at Harry for a few moments, as though he wasn't expecting to hear that – not that he should have expected any of that anyway, Harry thought – before Tom spoke again, slowly. "You remember the night your parents died?"

"Not really. I used to dream all the time about a green light and I'd always wake up from those dreams with my scar hurting. The Dursley's said the green light I would dream about was just me remembering seeing one of the traffic lights when they died. Why would I assume it was something else? I didn't know about magic at the time so I didn't think to question their explanation or suspect them of lying."

"It must have been quite a shock to learn the truth."

Harry shook his head. "It was a shock learning that I was a wizard and that there was a whole world out there I wasn't even aware existed. Learning the truth about their deaths though...it wasn't really shock. It was mostly disbelief at first, then I just felt... guilty."

"Guilty." The word rolled off Tom's tongue as though it was a strange concept he didn't understand. Then, to Harry's dismay, Tom's posture went straight with rigidity as his face took on a guarded look; a calculating look shining in his blue eyes. Harry wondered if he had said something wrong, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what he had said to cause this odd reaction.

"Did you think you were somehow... responsible for their deaths?" Tom asked slowly, as though he didn't think it was wise to be asking such a question.

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. It was odd that Tom would make that assumption. Why would Harry think he was responsible for their deaths? He was only one year old at the time, after all.

"No, I didn't think I was responsible at all." Harry answered, giving Tom an inquiring look at the odd question.

Harry nearly sighed in relief when Tom relaxed at his proclamation.

"I felt guilty because I truly did believe what my Aunt and Uncle had told me." Harry continued when it was clear Tom wasn't going to explain his odd reaction. "There were certain moments where I actually used to... _hate_ my parents for leaving me to be stuck living with the Dursley's. I have never liked living with them and there were certain days where I resented my parents for dieing and abandoning me to their 'care'. So when I learned the truth, I felt horrible for, at times, thinking so badly of them when they actually died trying to protect me – not because they were careless drunks."

The hardness in Tom's eyes had gone and he now looked at Harry in contemplative thought. "Do you still feel guilty for how you thought of them in the past?"

"No, not anymore." Harry found it odd, that out of everything he had told Tom so far, this seemed to be the easiest. Perhaps it was because he had moved past the guilt and the shame for his past thoughts about his parents. He had been extremely young after all and hadn't known the truth. "I did for a while though, until I met Sirius and Remus. They were friends of my parents you see, while they were in school together. They ended up telling me a lot of stories about my parents; my dad especially. And even though I liked hearing about them I was surprised to learn that my dad was actually a lot like Malfoy: an arrogant Pureblood bully. He was very cruel to others in school. It made me realize that I went from one extreme to other; from hating my parents for being lazy drunks to idolizing them for being perfection personified. The stories helped me realize that they weren't completely good or evil – just human like everyone else."

It was also why Harry didn't get so angry at Snape anymore when the dungeon bat insulted James or said Harry was arrogant and lazy. Although Harry didn't appreciate being treated like that, he had a better understanding now of why Snape acted the way he did.

Harry didn't think Tom needed to know that though.

"I guess you could say it was another reason I didn't want to be in Slytherin," Harry continued, "although I don't think I was really conscious of it at the time. I said earlier that Voldemort being a Slytherin didn't really factor into my decision, but I guess it did in a way. I was trying to make up for thinking horribly of my parents and I guess I thought they would have been ashamed of me to be in the same house as the man who murdered them."

"So you never regretted your decision? Or wondered what it would have been like to be in your true house?"

"Hmm, well, no I don't think I've ever regretted it. If anything, I was more averse to it once I had a few run ins with Malfoy. He seemed like a total prat when I first met him in Diagon Alley and my opinion of him didn't improve much after the semester started – reminded me a lot of my cousin actually." Harry sighed as he leaned back against the bench, rubbing the back of his neck as he considered Tom's other question. "But I have wondered about it a few times. After what happened in my second year I don't think Slytherin was really my 'true house'. I figured that the Hat only wanted to put me there since I'm a parselmouth." Harry grinned in amusement. "I mean, it's not like people look at me and associate me with Slytherin in anyway."

Tom's mouth twitched in amusement. "From all the adventures you've had, you do seem to fit the role of 'reckless Gryffindor' quite well."

Harry's eyes brightened with mirth. " Yes, I've been told so on many occasions. After second year I was sure the whole thing was a fluke. You heard what Snape said yesterday; I'm Dumbledore's 'Golden Boy'. I bet the Hat only wanted me to be in Slytherin because of the whole 'talking to snakes' thing. I can't imagine there being any other reason since I obviously wouldn't fit as a Slytherin."

"I don't think it had anything to do with you being a parselmouth." Tom stated offhandedly as though he were still contemplating something.

"You don't?" Harry asked incredulously.

Tom shook his head. "No. The Hat was made to look at personality traits, and which of those traits were stronger than others so that the student could be sorted into the house they would be most compatible with. A magical ability like parseltongue wouldn't have anything to do with the Hat's decision since it doesn't influence your personality in any way – despite the fact many witches and wizards think otherwise. I mentioned earlier that self preservation is a trait strongly associated with Salazar Slytherin's house. From what you've just told me, your decision to stay away from Slytherin was because you were disadvantaged with your lack of knowledge of certain events and how your status played into the magical world you didn't even know existed until a few weeks prior.

"Despite that disadvantage, you took the information you _did_ have and decided, under the circumstances, that it would be unsafe for you to enter into a House with such a strong and controversial history attached to it without being prepared in advance. Since you were unable to prepare and learn more before the sorting, you did the only thing that would ensure your safety, and told the hat to sort you elsewhere. You reacted to the situation exactly as a Slytherin would."

Harry frowned as he absorbed everything Tom had said. Although it made sense, it was odd to think of his thoughts and decision at the time in that way. He just remembered being a very young, scared yet hopeful little boy who saw the world of magic as a new opportunity for him to make something of himself. To be more than just _Boy._ He saw the magical world as a chance to finally be himself – to actually discover his true self – and actually make something of his life. While his world was confined with the Dursleys, he hadn't seen any possible future for himself. Vernon always told him that he would be chucked out the day he turned 18 and would most likely spend the rest of his meaningless existence wandering the streets of London as a beggar. It was a prospect he was all too happy to leave behind.

The thought that he actually could have done well in Slytherin made Harry terribly uneasy. When he had met Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets, Riddle had mentioned how alike they were. It had unsettled Harry greatly and he had wondered, briefly, if he was capable of being like Riddle. The only thing that had settled Harry's doubts was the fact that he was a Gryffindor and able to wield Godric's sword – like Dumbledore had pointed out.

However, if Harry considered Tom's analysis on his actions as a first year, then there was a lot more Slytherin in Harry than he thought possible – and that thought made him entirely uncomfortable.

"_There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Even you must have noticed. Both half-blood's, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the Great Slytherin himself. We even look something alike."*_

Shaking his head slightly, Harry willed the unwelcome memory from his head, glancing away from Tom's gaze to stare at his Charms textbook that lay open on the table in front of him.

"I don't really think that's –" Harry huffed as he tried to search for a way to disregard Tom's assessment. "I mean, if you're right, the Hat would have sorted me into Slytherin no matter what I said – right?"

"Not exactly. Even though the Hat is designed to sort students into the House that is most compatible, the Hat isn't given sole authority on the decision, despite what most people think."

Harry's rapid thoughts paused at that. "It's not?"

"Not at all. Although the Hat doesn't hesitate to sort students into their most compatible House, Godric Gryffindor specifically created the Hat to let the student choose for themselves – especially if the student had enough will to go against the Hat's decision in the first place. Although Godric wanted, and succeeded, in creating a very powerful magical artifact capable of detecting obscure personality traits and morals; Godric had no desire to take away a persons free will on the matter – especially concerning a decision that would vastly influence the remainder of their adolescence at Hogwarts."

Harry blinked at Tom in slight awe and bewilderment at what was just said. He had never considered it before, but now that Tom pointed it out, the Hat does have an extraordinary amount of influence over the students' lives when they first enter Hogwarts. Harry knew already that his Hogwarts experience would have been vastly different in ways he couldn't entirely contemplate if the Hat were to have completely disregarded his say in the matter. Harry felt that the consequences, good or bad, would have been monumental if he had ended up in Slytherin four years ago.

Harry knew he wasn't the only one who would've been greatly influenced by his sorting. He's already witnessed several students being shunned and belittled by their family if they ended up in an 'undesirable' house. Sirius himself had told Harry how much trouble it caused him to be the first Black ever sorted into Gryffindor. Last year, Harry had even learned that depending on which House an individual was in at Hogwarts, could potentially influence future career prospects after graduation.

And to think, all that power and influence rested in the threads of an ancient and battered hat.

The fact that Godric Gryffindor had the foresight to allow a student their own choice on the matter, filled Harry with a sense of gratitude toward the Founder, but filled him with a sense of horror as well if, by chance, that man hadn't thought of those consequences in the first place.

"How do you know all that?" Harry finally croaked. "I mean, about Godric making those decisions so the Hat wouldn't have a final say?"

Tom shrugged nonchalantly. "Research. I've mentioned to you already that I've done a lot of delving into the history of Hogwarts and each of the founders. I studied Godric Gryffindor especially before arriving this fall since I knew he was the one who created the Sorting Hat – and I knew the success of my goals and ambitions at Hogwarts would depend greatly on which house I was sorted into."

"So you were supposed to be in a different house then." Harry asked, though it wasn't really a question – he already had his suspicions.

"Slytherin, like you." Tom had a small smile on his lips as he said that.

"So, why choose Gryffindor?" Harry asked curiously. Even though he hadn't really expected for Tom to say Slytherin – he really did think that Ravenclaw would suit him well – the fact didn't bother him like it would Ron. If anything, it made Harry feel even better about all that he had revealed to Tom about his own Sorting. It was as though it made Tom more trustworthy somehow.

"I, like you, knew that I would be judged and limited in my actions and achievements if I were to go to Slytherin. Although there would be a lot for me to accomplish with the snakes, I knew that Gryffindor would make things happen more...receptively."

Harry frowned. "What _things_?"

Harry flinched as Tom whipped his wand out from his sleeve, giving it a swift flick; lowering the privacy wards that Harry wasn't aware until then that had been erected around the alcove. Harry could vaguely hear a pair of soft footsteps descending from the dorm stairs, as well as indistinguishable mumblings that sounded a lot like Hermione.

Glancing at the clock mounted on the common room fireplace, Harry was surprised to see it was nearly half past 6. He had been talking with Tom for nearly an hour and a half already.

"I'd appreciate it, if you would keep the knowledge of my sorting to yourself Harry." Tom stated softly as he focused his attention back onto his pile of letters. "Although you've been quite accepting, I feel I would get a much less positive reception if other members of this house were to find out."

Harry blinked in confusion for a moment before nodding in agreement. He had been wondering how Tom knew about Hermione getting up, since he hadn't been aware of it at all until Tom had removed the privacy wards. Harry frowned again since he was also unaware of those being up in the first place – usually he was able to feel the buzz of magical wards and spells whenever they were cast.

"Yes, of course, I won't tell anyone."

"I'll also keep what you've told me to myself as well." Tom assured, smiling at Harry approvingly. "It'll be our little secret."

* * *

Huffing in frustration, Harry roughly shoved a dusty tome back in its place on the shelf. He had been looking through the library for nearly half an hour and wasn't able to find anything about Occlumency. He had about another hour of free time before his last class of the day, Herbology, started and he wasn't getting anywhere.

Even though Harry knew he should spend this time catching up on his assignments – since he finally managed to finish his summer essays – he had figured that since it was unlikely he would have another chance to look through the library without having to answer his friends questions, he knew this was the only time he would get to research before his first Occlumency lesson with Snape began tonight.

Hermione and Tom were still in their Ancient Runes class since it was a double period, and Ron had immediately headed out to the Quidditch Pitch to practice after their Care of Magical Creatures class ended, his eyes narrowed in frustration; refusing to look at, or acknowledge Harry in any way.

Angelina Johnson, the new Gryffindor Captain, had approached Harry during lunch while he was finishing the last of his summer assignments, to ask if he was still on as Seeker. Harry had assured that he was still eager to keep his place on the team. His excitement was short lived though when Angelina mentioned she was holding tryouts for Keeper since Oliver Wood had graduated and they needed someone to fill his spot on the team. Ron had overheard of course and had insisted that Harry 'pull whatever strings necessary' to get him on the team.

That had resulted in an argument where Harry insisted that he didn't have any say on the team and that he would just have to try out like everyone else. Of course, Ron wasn't too pleased by that and had stated that Harry hadn't needed to try out at all to get on the team back in his first year. The entire conversation had left Harry in a bad mood the rest of lunch and caused Ron to sulk and shoot a glare at Harry every few minutes or so during class.

Harry found himself slowly becoming increasingly irritated with his best friend, since it seemed the two of them hadn't been able to stop arguing over every little thing since school started. It confused Harry since he thought everything had been resolved between the two of them last year after the First Task and Ron had admitted to being a prat. But after spending an entire summer without any correspondence and their constant bickering once they met up again on the train, Harry wasn't so sure what to think anymore.

Adjusting the invisibility cloak so it fit more securely on his shoulders, Harry moved over to the next shelf and began perusing the books once more. Harry had started looking immediately in the Restricted Section for information about the mind arts, not even bothering to look in the regular section of the library. From what Snape said last night about keeping these lessons a secret, he knew it was unlikely for him to find any information elsewhere.

As he looked through the shelves, Harry noted that the Restricted Section didn't seem to have any sort of sense or order to it. In one section he had found books on Greek Mythology mixed with history on dark lords, tomes on dark rituals, a series dedicated to torture techniques and an entire shelf filled with tomes specifying ways to manipulate the skins of dark creatures to create fashionable clothing attire.

Although Harry had been in the Restricted Section once before in his first year, and very briefly this last year, he hadn't been around long enough to fully realize how disorderly everything was. He's always hated the thought of research. The idea of looking through endless amounts of books in the hopes of running across the one he actually needed just left him completely exasperated. It was why he was so grateful that Hermione loved the library so much; she practically knew where everything was and could find the correct information quickly.

The dust filled air left him with a major headache as he continued looking through the shelves. At one point, he thought he stumbled onto a promising section only to realize the glowing red books weren't about Occlumency or Legilimency, but rather possession and detailed studies on the effects of long term exposure to the Imperius Curse.

"I'll just have to see if Sirius has anything in his library for me to use." Harry whispered to himself softly as he heard the bell ring to indicate the last class of the day would be starting in 10 minutes.

Stepping carefully as he headed down the isle out of the Restricted Section, Harry had to duck between the shelves a few times in order to stay out of the way of a few seventh years doing research for their NEWTs classes.

As Harry narrowly missed bumping into a chestnut haired Ravenclaw, his shoulder knocked against a small corner shelf next to Madame Pince's desk, barely managing to catch a book mid air before it hit the ground. Hastily, before anyone saw what appeared to be a random book hovering in the air, Harry quickly shoved the book back onto the shelf – not even caring if he had returned it to its proper place or not – before stealthily crossing the rest of the library and through its doors before Madame Pince noticed anything amiss.

Ducking behind a statue of Halkar the Lone Giant, Harry removed the invisibility cloak, shoving it into his rucksack quickly. After a _'Tempus'_ to check the time, Harry sprinted off towards the green houses as fast as his shaky legs could take him. He really couldn't afford to be late once more and earn another detention.

* * *

"Merlin, Harry what's wrong with you?" Hermione asked, exasperated as Harry's hand started bleeding through the leather gloves he had worn. Professor Sprout had warned them that the needles of the Stinging Gibbous plants were incredibly sharp. The gloves hadn't even stopped them from piercing his skin.

The students had been instructed to re-pot the Stinging Gibbous plants they had planted the first half of class. Only this time, instead of planting the Stinging Gibbous plants in Shrewt dung, they were to plant it with a special mulch that was infused with pixie dust and powdered lythting scales. A week later, they would need to re-pot the plant back in with the Shrewt dung, where they would then leave the plant until the third waning gibbous moon after the final planting. They would then be able to collect the sap the plants stinging needles would excrete.

Harry knew it was important they pot the plant correctly to ensure they get enough of the sap that would be important for later in the year when it would be used for fully maturing some other plant they'd have to work with. Professor Sprout had even said they'd be able to get extra credit points in Potions for any extra sap they gathered to put into the Potion's stockroom. Despite knowing this, Harry couldn't really bring himself to care as his mind had been increasingly tumultuous as his detention with Snape neared.

Harry had always received decent scores in Herbology but had never had a huge interest in the subject like Neville. Because of his lack of interest in the subject, Harry was having a hard time adjusting to the overflow of information he was getting in the first Herbology class of the year. Especially since he never had the chance to read ahead in the textbook as he had only just caught up on his remaining summer assignments. He was used to the classes starting out slowly before picking up pace after a few days. But it seemed with it being their OWL year that the classes would only increase in difficulty as the year went on.

Not only was Harry having a hard time with the suddenly fast pace of the class, his mind was also getting increasingly distracted as the class drew to a close and dinner approached. Which was doing nothing to help keep his focus.

"You've been distracted the entire class period." Hermione stated with disapproval as she went to the small potions cabinet in the corner of the greenhouse; bringing back a salve to put on the puncture wounds before hurrying back over to her station before her plant wiggled out of its pot as she hadn't potted it completely before leaving to help Harry.

Harry fumbled a bit with the lid as he tried twisting it open one-handed as his other hand was still oozing small rivulets of blood. At least he wouldn't have to go to the Infirmary after class.

"Here, let me." Tom murmured. Ron sent a glare towards Tom from his station on Hermione's left side, nearly being pricked by the needles of his own Stinging Gibbous plant.

Either Tom ignored, or didn't care about Ron's hostility as the tall teen graced Harry with a soft smile, stepping forward from his station, opening the lid to the salve swiftly before grabbing Harry's injured hand.

Harry released an almost inaudible gasp the moment Tom's hand touched his. Something seemed to niggle at the back of Harry's mind until he suddenly remembered the first time he had shaken Tom's hand on the train. He remembered a very strange, yet subtle, humming energy had pulsed through his arm when he had shaken Tom's hand. At the time, the physical contact with Tom had been very brief and he had immediately dismissed the sensation.

Now though, as he watched Tom gently but efficiently clean the blood up with a rag before rubbing the salve in carefully so as not to disturb the puncture sites, Harry couldn't help but take notice of the sensation as Tom continued to clasp Harry's hand with those long, elegant fingers. It felt as though that strange, humming energy that pulsed through his arm had magnetized his skin, forcing Harry's hand to stay within Tom's grasp.

Harry didn't want Tom to let go. The magnetic force humming through his skin made him think Tom wouldn't be able too if he tried.

Harry was mortified when he felt his cheeks heating up with a blush, though he wasn't entirely sure why he was blushing in the first place.

"There, all done." Tom declared with a small smirk as Harry hastily took his hand away from Tom's; shoving his clenched fist in his robe pocket as though the appendage had offended him.

Fifteen minutes later, the students filed out of the greenhouse after cleaning up their stations and writing down their homework assignments. Ron had decided to hang back with Seamus and Dean trying to get the two to join him on the Quidditch Pitch, much to Hermione's annoyance. The brown haired witch had told Harry to go on ahead without her and make his way to the castle before she headed over to scold Ron and remind him that they had a Prefect meeting to attend too before dinner.

"You seem to have a lot on your mind." Tom commented softly as he joined Harry on the trek up to the castle.

Harry was glad that he was away from Ron and Hermione's bickering for the moment, however he was still confused about his behavior towards Tom in class and was slightly nervous to realize he was now alone with the tall teen.

"Are you worried about the detention you have tonight?" Tom prodded further.

Yes, Harry was worried about his detention with Snape, but mostly because he hadn't been successful in finding any information about Occlumency in the library. From the way Snape had spoken about the mind arts and the amount of dedication it took to master, he knew if he came to the lesson completely unprepared that the greasy bastard would only torment him more than usual.

He wasn't able to share this with Tom though since nobody was supposed to know about the lessons. There was another thing he really _was_ worried about though, that he could tell Tom to justify the reason he had been so distracted in lessons today.

"No, I'm worried about _after_ my detention with Snape. I'm supposed to go to the Headmaster's office directly after detention."

Tom's brow rose. "Is that so?"

Harry nodded. "I'm not sure why though. I was only told the Headmaster wanted to meet with me but I wasn't given any reason why."

"Do you think it has anything to do with the detentions Snape assigned?"

"No, I think I'd be told if that were the reason. I don't think Dumbledore would believe Snape's claims that I cheated, so I doubt it has anything to do with that."

"Then why are you so worried?"

Harry was worried because of the feeling of unease that continued to swell within his chest whenever he thought of meeting with Dumbledore. How was he supposed to explain his wariness and unease towards the Headmaster when it was something he didn't understand himself? He knew if he even mentioned his worry to Hermione she would be concerned and fret over it until she went to the Headmaster directly to ask him about it.

Tom was new to all this though. He probably wasn't aware of how involved the Headmaster had been in Harry's life and that it would be unusual for Harry to suddenly feel so wary around the Headmaster – the Headmaster Harry had always gotten along with and looked up too for the past few years. Unlike Hermione, Tom wouldn't look to much into it.

"I...I'm not sure why to be honest. Lately whenever I see the Headmaster or think about the meeting I feel incredibly wary..." Harry trailed off as he watched Tom's reaction out of the corner of his eye.

Tom remained silent as they made their way through the castle doors and headed into the Entrance Hall. A few students were mulling about, but for the most part, the students were migrating towards the library or their common rooms to rest or study before dinner.

"Do you fear the Headmaster will harm you in some way?" Tom finally asked.

Harry blinked at him in shock. Harry never thought such a thing but agreed it was a logical conclusion for Tom to make from what Harry had told him. "No, of course not! Well at least I don't think I do. The Headmaster has never harmed me before, I don't know why he would start now. It's like I said, I don't know why I feel so uneasy about him all of a sudden. I never have in the past."

Tom hummed in contemplation as they made their way to the Enchanted Staircase.

"Maybe he just wants to talk about Sirius' trial or something." Harry contemplated, as he really didn't like Tom thinking the Headmaster would harm him and he wanted to dissuade the blue eyed teen from those thoughts.

Even though Harry was, and still is, confused over the summer restrictions and isolation Dumbledore had implemented, the Headmaster had done a lot for Harry and he didn't want anyone to think anything negative about the kind old headmaster.

"It's a possibility. However, since you don't know for sure, I would be willing to wait up for you while you speak with the Headmaster, if you think that would help." Tom offered as they walked down the 7th floor corridor towards the Gryffindor common room.

Harry smiled. "Thanks Tom but I don't think that's necessary. I'm probably worrying about nothing. It doesn't help that every time I've been in the Headmaster's office I was certain I was about to be expelled. Maybe this feeling will go away after I find out whatever it is the Headmaster wants to discuss."

"I suppose that's possible as well." Tom agreed as they opened the portrait door and stepped through into the common room. "You'll let me know what the meeting was about once you're finished though, won't you?" Tom asked as the most charming smile suddenly spread across his lips. "I'd probably stay up with worry all night if you didn't."

Harry felt his cheeks turn pink and quickly looked away from Tom's leering smile.

"Yes, Tom. Of course." Harry mumbled as he waited for his blush to recede before giving Tom a small smile in return.

* * *

Gritting his teeth as his knees slammed into the stone floor once more, Harry barely managed to pick himself up again on shaky legs to face the dungeon bat again. Harry had decided Occlumency was horrible, as he saw the unsympathetic dark gaze of the Potions Master; wand still held loosely in those pale, potions stained fingers.

A throbbing ache pulsed through his mind as he finally managed to steady himself and take a deep breath. He didn't know how much more of this he could take and desperately wished this lesson was over – that these lessons hadn't even started in the first place. Now more than ever did Harry wish he was able to find something informative in the library. Snape had been less than helpful, attacking his mind without so much as an explanation or advice on how to counter such an attack.

The small words of 'clear your mind' weren't much to go on. And after the past few hours of succumbing to Snape's intrusion on his mind, Harry had come to the conclusion that 'clearing your mind' meant more than just an absence of wandering thoughts.

"Pathetic Potter" Snape whispered. Harry was grateful for the soft spoken words as he was sure he'd lose his stomach if Snape started shouting. However, Harry was sure Snape's tone of voice was more of an intimidation tactic instead of consideration for Harry's throbbing headache. "As I suspected. The Headmaster won't be pleased with this unproductive start."

"I just don't understand what you mean when you say 'clear your mind'." Harry rasped, his breath shaky and voice hoarse from screaming. "There must be more to it than what you're saying." Snape's jaw tightened. "Sir." Harry amended quickly.

Snape's eyes narrowed in annoyance, the greasy wizards wand arm twitching, and Harry was sure he was going to invade his mind once more simply to punish him for the delayed term of respect.

"It is as I told you Potter. Clear your mind and keep me from your memories. I don't know how I'd make such instruction to be more plain."

Harry shuddered as he remembered the fact that Snape had access to his memories now. The flitting images the man had witnessed tonight hadn't been too dire, merely small snippets of classes, quidditch games, and the time Harry faced the angry dragon during the First Task – nothing too bothersome. But Harry knew there were worse things the Potions Professor could access, and the thought completely terrified him.

Snape swiftly raised his wand arm, and Harry flinched, scrunching his eyes close as he anticipated the pain to split through his head as he was legilimized once more. As it was, Harry didn't need to worry as he realized, after a few moments, that Snape hadn't entered his mind at all.

Opening his eyes, Harry noticed Snape had opened the door to the side of the office. The Potions Master smirked at seeing Harry's reaction.

"It's time you get up to the Headmaster's office. Although I'm sure you're eager to continue forward with these lessons, there is much I'd rather do than continue to waste my time on you."

Harry breathed out in relief as he pocketed his wand, the handle slick with sweat from grasping it so tightly for such an extended period of time. "Yes sir."

"Remember to clear your mind before you sleep tonight, Potter." Snape called out as Harry walked out the office door. "I'll know if you haven't been practicing."

Harry clenched his fist in annoyance as another lance of pain speared through his forehead. The thought of 'clearing his mind' once more seemed exhausting and totally ineffective. How was it useful to 'clear his mind' at night when it did absolutely nothing against Snape's mental assaults?

Harry's arms and legs – knees especially – ached as he hobbled his way towards the Headmaster's office. He had no clue what the Headmaster wanted to speak with him about and hoped it wasn't something too worrisome. He didn't think he'd be able to handle anything too shocking at the moment as he was terribly exhausted and just wanted to collapse in his comfortable bed up in Gryffindor Tower.

As it was, Harry wasn't sure he'd be able to meet the Headmaster at all, as he realized he didn't know the password for the stone gargoyle once he finally reached it. His head felt too woozy and achy to think of numerous amounts of muggle and magical sweets in an attempt to guess the password.

Harry sighed in exasperation as he rested his heated forehead on the cool stone walls, jumping suddenly at the sound of the gargoyle rotating out of the way. Harry was happy he didn't have to guess the password and assumed the gargoyle granted him entrance because the Headmaster would be waiting for him.

"Come in, Harry." The Headmaster called out after Harry knocked on the wooden door. The sudden feeling of unease gripped his chest as he walked through the doors into the Headmaster's office.

The Headmaster's office looked the same as usual. There were silver trinkets with unknowable uses scattered about the room and numerous amounts of portraits containing the sleeping forms of Hogwarts' past Headmasters and Headmistress'. Fawkes perch was empty, but Harry didn't think that was all that unusual. Dumbledore had stated in the past that Fawkes was a free spirit who comes and goes as he pleases. The only thing different about the office were the barely distinguishable scorch marks that littered the floor in an absolutely haphazard pattern.

Harry frowned. Were the scorch marks the reason for his unease?

"You looked terribly peaky my boy. You just arrived from your first Occlumency lesson is that correct?" The Headmaster asked as he indicated for Harry to sit in the plush, purple armchair seated in front of the desk.

"Yes, sir." Harry stated as he gratefully took the seat and rested his trembling muscles.

Dumbledore gave a low hum while looking over his glasses at Harry in worry. "Well, it should get better with time. The first Occlumency lessons are always the hardest. Just listen to Professor Snape's instruction and it should become much more bearable in the near future."

"I actually wanted to ask you about that Sir." Harry began and continuing when the Headmaster invited him to go on. "Professor Snape said it was a way to prevent Voldemort from getting into my mind and I was wondering why I didn't start these lessons last year, when I first started having those visions."

Dumbledore smiled at Harry softly, which Harry was happy to note caused the grip of unease in his chest to recede. Harry's form relaxed further as the unexplainable feeling of wariness fled him for the moment.

"An understandable and valid question, Harry." Dumbledore affirmed as he extended a bowl of lemon drops to Harry in offering, only returning it back to the desk surface once Harry declined. "There are several factors as to why the lessons weren't able to start until this term. As I'm sure Professor Snape explained to you, lessons in mind arts such as these are frowned upon by the Ministry."

"Professor Snape said something like that but didn't really explain. He just said I couldn't tell anyone else about the lessons and that it would be bad if the Ministry found out about them."

"Which Professor Snape was correct about. The Ministry has outlawed Legilimency, which is a mind art that is necessary to use in order to learn the counter to Legilimency, which is Occlumency, as you know." Harry nodded in affirmation. "So when you started having visions the summer before your fourth year, I considered the possibility of starting these lessons but decided it was unwise too as I knew the school would be host to the Triwizard Tournament and there would be a heavy Ministry presence in the castle throughout the year."

"Even with Professor Umbridge's presence in the school this year, and her open agenda of enforcing Ministry proceedings in the school, I found it was considerably less risky to conduct these lessons with only one authority representing the Ministry in the castle, instead of the few dozen that were around last year."

"I guess that makes sense. Better late than never I suppose."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I'm glad you think so my boy. Now, there were a few things I wanted to discuss with you since I wasn't able to visit you over the summer. First thing I wanted to address is about Sirius."

Harry perked up, sliding forward in his seat as he was hoping he'd be hearing more about his godfather and the Ministry proceedings that would hopefully clear the poor wizards name.

"I'm sure Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley have informed you a bit about the newspaper coverage over Pettigrew's interrogation this summer, is that correct?"

"Sort of. Hermione said that Pettigrew had been obliviated with only a few memories remaining and that the Ministry was reluctant to move forward with a trial because of that."

"That is partially correct. Pettigrew was obliviated, however the only missing segments of his memories are the months after the events in the Shrieking Shack occurred. The memory charm wasn't as extensive as Ms. Granger suggested. Pettigrew was still very much aware of betraying your parents to Voldemort, framing Sirius, then hiding out with the Weasley's as a pet rat. However, the Minister is very wary of going forward with a trial, despite this evidence, as the fact that Sirius never received a trial in the first place when he was first incarcerated all those years ago, and the fact that Minister Fudge didn't notice those trial transcripts were missing when Sirius escaped from Azkaban, came to light. It has done nothing to help Cornelius politically and he is doing all he can to keep the situation as hush-hush as possible since he fears it will ruin his chances of being re-elected into office in the next few months."

Harry felt anger all over again at being reminded of the ridiculous machinations of the Ministry. Why couldn't they admit they messed everything up and get on with it? "So they're doing nothing even though they have a confession and pensieve memories from Pettigrew?"

"Even though the Minister is trying to prevent the trial from happening, there are others in the Ministry who are adamant to see justice take place." Dumbledore explained softly, before Harry could let the anger consume him prematurely. "Like Madame Bones, for instance. She is the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and has been pushing for the trial despite Fudge's attempts. She is in charge of the case, and as Head of the Aurors, has power in her own right to ensure justice is served."

Harry deflated a little at that. Sure, he was still angry that the Minister was being so selfish and only thinking of how this would affect _him_ but was content to know that there were others who wanted to see the truth come to light. It seemed Sirius had a chance after all.

"The reason I wanted to discuss this with you is because I was informed that Sirius will receive his trial in December a few days before the Christmas Holidays. With all the evidence against Peter, and Sirius being able to stand trial without fear of getting the Dementors Kiss as soon as he steps foot in the Ministry, there is a huge possibility Sirius will be declared a free man in a few short months."

Harry grinned happily as he thought of that. It probably meant he'd be able to spend the Holidays with Sirius, without his godfather having to hide or stay cooped up in his childhood home. Those happy thoughts quickly abated though when he noticed the Headmaster wasn't so jovial about it.

The feeling of unease slowly started to trickle bad into his chest as he looked worriedly at the Headmaster.

"Headmaster, why..." Harry breathed deeply. "You're speaking as if that's...a bad thing. Aren't you happy Sirius will be free?"

Indeed, Dumbledore had a solemn look on his face, his hands clasped together as though in serious contemplation.

"You misunderstand my mood, Harry. Of course I am happy your Godfather will be free – no man deserves to be unlawfully imprisoned. I am merely upset that I have to inform you, that even when your Godfather is cleared of all charges, you will still have to spend the majority of your summer holidays with the Dursley's."

Harry paled as the breath seemed to have whooshed out of lungs suddenly in shock and confusion. His muscles seemed to tremble a bit more as the feeling of unease constricted his chest once more.

"But-but why?" Harry rasped, almost desperately. "I don't understand why I can't stay with him. Hermione said his home was protected with the Fidelius Charm. Won't that be safer than being with the Dursleys?"

"I know this is upsetting to you Harry, as I know how much you desire to spend time with your godfather. I know the summer restrictions have been hard on you and I regret I wasn't able to allow you more freedoms during that time. Despite the protections Headquarters has, it will never compare to the protections the Blood Wards around the Dursley residence can provide. Surely you understand this Harry."

"Well what about Winter break?" Harry asked as he felt a mixture of anger and hurt swirl within him. "I can still see Sirius then, right?"

Dumbledore sighed as he saw how upset Harry was becoming. "The winter holidays Harry, are entirely dependent on how well you progress in Occlumency. I would love to be able to allow you to visit your Godfather for the Christmas celebrations, but I won't be able to do so unless your mind is adequately protected against Voldemort's influences."

Harry's breathing was shallow and his knuckles white as he gripped the arms of his chair fiercely in an attempt to control the swirling emotions running through his mind. Worry, unease, anger, sadness, hurt and confusion coursed through his veins and it was nearly too much for him to handle and he feared he would lose control and lash out in some way.

"What does Occlumency have to do with any of this?" Harry whispered through gritted teeth.

"Did you not wonder why I didn't retrieve you during the end of the summer?" Dumbledore asked, seemingly unaware of Harry's potentially volatile temper. "In the past I've always allowed you to stay the remaining two or so weeks of your summer holidays with the Weasleys. So why wouldn't I do the same this year? The Occlumency lessons serve a purpose of doing more than keeping Voldemort from your mind, Harry, but protecting any potentially harmful information from being discovered by either Voldemort or his loyal servants as well. I _can not_ allow you access to Headquarters, unless your mind is adequately protected from outside intrusion."

"Well what about Hermione and Ron?" Harry asked, nearly shouting as his anger continued to grow. "They've never learned Occlumency and you didn't have any problems allowing _them_ in Headquarters!"

"Your friends also do not have a mental connection with Voldemort, nor are they going to be privy to very sensitive information concerning the newly risen Dark Lord." Dumbledore answered back quickly, voice taking on a warning tone as he peered over his glasses at Harry in slight reprimand for speaking to him in such a raised tone.

Harry deflated at once at hearing those words. Not only from Dumbledore's silent warning and the awareness that he needed to keep his temper under control, but also the implications that he will be allowed to know certain things about the Orders plans really got his attention.

"Information, Sir?" Harry asked breathlessly as he slunk back in his seat, the anger draining from him along with whatever energy he had left.

"Yes, Harry. It is actually the last thing I wanted to discuss with you this evening."

Harry nodded as he waited for the Headmaster to gather his thoughts. The elderly wizard was peering at blankly in his office as he drummed his fingers together. It made Harry nervous but he was too curious about what the Headmaster was going to say to interrupt the mans thoughts.

"I feel that I've imparted how imperative it is for your mind to be protected." Dumbledore began.

"Yes sir, I know it's important." Harry affirmed, since he knew he wouldn't be able to see Sirius until he started making some progress in the mind arts. He was going to do whatever was necessary to make sure he would be able to see his godfather for the winter holidays. Harry wouldn't allow Snape to deter him from learning Occlumency, even if he had to learn by himself if the greasy git continued to be a lousy teacher.

"What my plans are, Harry, is to start giving you lessons throughout the year. It won't be focused around dueling or offensive magic as you probably think, but rather information concerning Tom Riddle's past and the path he took to become the Dark Lord he is today."

Harry frowned. "How will learning his history help sir?"

"I believe delving into Tom Riddle's past will do more than just reveal Voldemorts early misdeeds, but actually give us an answer for how Riddle can be destroyed once and for all. You know Voldemort wasn't destroyed that Halloween night 14 years ago. A normal man should have died that night after being hit with the rebounded killing curse. I believe these lessons will reveal to us exactly how Voldemort's spirit remained bound to this earth even though his body had been destroyed."

"You...you really think so sir?" Harry asked, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. Harry had always known Voldemort had survived that night, and had never though to question the reason _why_ that was even possible. It seemed the information Dumbledore was going to share with him would indeed be very important.

"I do Harry. Which is why I implore you to dedicate all your energy and focus into learning Occlumency and strengthening your mind. It is important that Voldemort doesn't become aware of these lessons and his secrets we have the potential to stumble upon. Can you do that for me, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "Yes sir. I'll do my best to learn Occlumency, I promise."

Dumbledore smiled. "That's great, my boy! I have every confidence that you will be successful. Now, it seems the time has gotten late and curfew has passed us by a long time ago."

Dumbledore was right. Harry was shocked to realize it was nearly midnight. He didn't have any clue how long he was with Snape for his 'detention' and therefore unable to guess how long he had been speaking with the Headmaster. All Harry knew was he could feel the late hour weigh heavily on his fatigued body and mind and was happy to finally be heading for his bed.

"Take this note, just in a case a patrolling teacher or prefect catches you about at this hour." Dumbledore said while handing a small, rolled up scroll to Harry. "I suggest you get as much sleep as possible so you'll be ready for classes tomorrow. I'll call you when it is time to start the lessons. In the meantime, focus on your school work and Occlumency lessons."

"I will sir, thank you." Harry said as he took the scroll and stood up, heading to the door at the clear dismissal.

"Have a good night, Harry."

"Goodnight, Professor."

* * *

Harry couldn't even move once he sunk down into his bed. The day seemed to have crashed down on him, his limbs felt like they were weighed down with cement blocks as they trembled in relief from the strain they'd been through today. Harry had no idea if he was going to be able to get up tomorrow.

Thoughts filled his fatigued mind even though he willed himself to sleep. From the discussion he had with Tom this morning, to the weird reaction he had to the tall teen in Herbology, as well as the disastrous Occlumency lesson and the multiple things he had discussed with the Headmaster, it took several minutes for Harry's mind to even begin calming down, let alone try to sleep.

Harry just let his mind drift as he tried to focus on his heart beat. His thoughts eventually dwindled as his awareness of the outside world started to dim. As he entered into a space between the world of dreams and the world of reality, Harry idly wondered if this is what it meant to 'clear' his mind.

He was so focused on emptying his thoughts that he almost didn't realize the fact that someone was saying his name. It sounded like a sort of echo in his mind before Harry finally opened his eyes to see Tom, dressed in black pajamas and perched on the edge of his bed. The curtain of his four poster had been pulled open, letting in a small stream of moon light filter into his bed.

"Harry?" Tom whispered.

"Tom?" Harry asked groggily as he blinked his eyes some more to adjust to the moon light and surrounding darkness. "I thought you were asleep."

Harry could see a small smirk spread across Tom's lips. "I told you I'd be up with worry all night, didn't I?"

Harry was glad it was so dark as he could feel himself blush again. Damn, he hated that he did that. The whole thing confused him and he had no idea why he reacted to Tom in such a way.

"You were gone for a long time. Were you able to speak with the Headmaster?" Tom asked softly so as to not disturb their other dorm mates.

Harry rubbed his eyes as he turned over to face Tom more fully, barely keeping in a groan from how painful it was to move his muscles at the moment.

"Yeah, I did. It wasn't anything to worry about." Harry whispered back, his words slurring slightly as he fought to keep his eyes open as they felt heavier by the minute. He was sure he would pass out at any moment in exhaustion. "Just wanted to talk about Sirius and his trial and said he was going to give me lessons."

"Lessons?" Tom asked.

Harry saw one of Tom's pale hands reach out to rest on his shoulder. Harry could hardly contain the small gasp that emitted from his lips at the touch. It felt as though the mere touch of Tom's hand was melting his muscles into goo. It felt amazing to his overly strained muscles, but it did nothing to help with his exhaustion. His eyelids slid closed before he could even try to stop it.

"Yeah, lessons about Voldemort I guess." Harry mumbled, his words barely audible as he started to quickly descend into sleep.

"Lessons about what?" Tom asked persistently as he started running his hand up and down Harry's arm in an attempt to keep him awake.

Harry groaned as he tried to open his eyes once more, but failed. "I don't know. His history or something, I'm not sure."

"Is that so?" Tom whispered quietly, his hand only pausing for a moment before it continued to run up and down Harry's arm.

Harry wasn't sure if Tom said anything more as fatigue finally gripped him; he was unconscious in the next moment.

– –

* This quote came directly from Harry Potter and the Chamber of the Secrets, you probably recognized it.

A/N: So, the story will be picking up pace after this chapter. So far, each chapter has been covering a whole day, where the following chapters will be covering a lot more space of time. I just had to get the foundation settled before I can move forward more with the plot. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Please review and let me know what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The library was one of Harry's least favorite places to be at Hogwarts. It wasn't that he was allergic to books or studying – despite the tediousness of it all – it was the atmosphere of the library that he disliked.

It didn't seem to matter that Madame Pince was constantly flinging out cleaning spells, the library was _always_ dusty. It was as though the books were determined to make more out of their stationary existence on the shelves by spewing particles of dirt and chalk and who knows what else over every surface. The library _is_ magical, so Harry wouldn't be surprised if that really were the case. The air was filled with it all and made his chest and throat clench up if he stayed too long.

His dislike for the library seemed to have developed into full blown hate recently since the dredgy air and poor lighting reminded him horribly of his recent two month long stint of isolation in Dudley's second bedroom.

Despite his aversion, the library was the only place where he could work on the outrageous amount of homework he's received without any distraction. At the moment, Fred and George were testing a multitude of new pranking items on several first years and any unfortunate enough to wander into the common room at the present time.

Harry would prefer to join in on the fun, since he was very curious how the twins decided to use the tournament winnings he had given them, but knew if he did that instead, he wouldn't have enough energy to do his homework later _and_ make it through his 'detention' all in one piece.

Although Harry had been feeling marginally better over this past week – he no longer felt like he'd been trampled by a troll at the end of the day – his energy levels were still nearly nonexistent. Even though his body felt much better his mind felt tired and it was sometimes hard to focus and pay attention in classes.

He constantly felt as though he could drift off and sleep at any moment (which he happily did in History of Magic, much to Tom's amusement, Hermione's dismay and Ron's jealousy at how easily he could slip into unconsciousness) and his magic felt weak and it was honestly difficult to cast spells with enough power to make them effective at all. He didn't even attempt to try them non-verbally like they were supposed too since it was difficult at the moment to do them verbally at all.

And it was absolutely exhausting to watch Tom in class since the tall teen was able to do every spell so far non-verbally on his first try and was enthusiastic in his efforts to teach other students the multitude of spells he knew. Hermione had been very eager to learn from Tom and take his advice on improving her spell casting, despite the small flicker of jealousy at the competition Tom made for her as top student.

Harry would have been just as eager to take up Tom's instruction if he had the energy to put the effort into it at all.

"Hi Harry." A nervous female voice greeted, making Harry look up from his nearly completed Charms essay, only to freeze in momentary shock when he saw it was Cho Chang. The last time he had spoken to her had been about a week before the Third Task. "Is it okay if I sit with you for a moment?"

If Harry answered honestly, he would have said _no_ without any hesitation. However, Harry _did_ hesitate seeing as Cho's eyes were red rimmed and puffy as though she had been crying recently. Her hands were shaking as she fiddled with her skirt nervously and her bottom lip twitched as though she could break down into a fit of sobs at a moments notice.

"Yeah, all right." Harry answered back as he moved his Transfiguration revision packet to make room for Cho to set her books down.

An uncomfortable silence fell between them once Cho had settled down. Harry rubbed his hands together nervously when Cho started wiping her eyes with a handkerchief after about five minutes of strained silence when a few stray tears had leaked down her cheeks.

"I know we haven't spoken since before the Third Task." Cho began. "And I...I wanted to apologize for that. I'm sorry, I really am. It wasn't right of me to just leave you like that after we had been dating for so long."

Harry had never once considered him and Cho to have been 'dating'. Harry had been required to attend the Yule Ball last year, and Harry had thought that Cho was pretty and polite and had asked her to go with him. She had said yes, much to his relief. He had already been pushed to his limit preparing for the Second Task and the last thing he wanted to worry about was finding himself a date as well.

After the Yule Ball, Harry would snog Cho in an alcove or empty classroom once in a while. He had even groped her breasts a few times, but other than that they never really interacted. They never went to Hogsmeade together or studied in the library together or even held hands like Harry had seen other couples do. They didn't even speak with each other much except for the few times they decided where to meet for another snog session.

So when Cho had told him she wanted to start dating Cedric again, Harry hadn't thought much of it. He was just aware that Cho wouldn't be available to meet him in hidden alcoves anymore, and that was it.

From what Cho was saying, she had thought they were 'dating', and seeing as she was already on the verge of full blown tears, Harry felt it was wise to keep those sort of thoughts to himself.

"After...after everything that happened last year I guess I felt I needed to explain myself." Cho took a few shuddering breaths as though she was trying to hold herself together. Harry just stared unseeingly at the textbook that lay open on the desk in front of him.

"Cedric and I had dated for a long time before we broke up and I guess I still had feelings for him even when we had been dating. I didn't realize it at the time though, I swear. I really did enjoy going to the Ball with you. But when the tournament officials announced that the last task would take place in the forbidden forest...I guess that really t-terrified me." Cho's hands were shaking further as she wiped a few more droplets of tears that fell from her eyes were she started stuttering.

Harry really wished he didn't have to listen to all this, but he didn't know what to do. He had a feeling he knew where Cho was going with this and he didn't know what he was going to say to her. He was wishing at the moment for Hermione to be with him, and it was unusual for her to _not_ be at the library, but he hadn't seen her since she had hurried off quickly after their dismal Double DADA class had ended.

"Right after the announcement I had Divination and Professor Trelawney told me something." Cho sniffed a little but managed to prevent more tears from falling. "She said that there were many dangers ahead and that if I didn't want to live the rest of my life with regret, that I should do what my heart tells me to do."

"She hadn't said anything about Cedric specifically but I knew that's what she had meant. I still had feelings for Cedric and he had been injured quite badly in the Second Task and I knew it could only get worse for him having to traipse through the Forbidden Forest and encounter all manner of dangerous beasts." Cho took a deep breath as she squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

"So I got back together with him. We were going to celebrate after he completed the Third Task, whether or not he won the Tournament. But then w-when you arrived at the edge of the forest..." Cho now had a steady stream of tears falling down her face but she didn't even seem to be aware of them.

"And Cedric had been found not too far away from where you appeared. I saw even from the spectator stands that he wasn't moving at all and I just knew th-that..." Cho trailed off as she buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking as she sobbed silently.

Harry felt his own hands shaking, and looked away from Cho's silent crying since he had no idea what to say to her to offer her comfort. The Centaurs had been recruited to patrol the edges of the Forest and intervene if necessary as the four champions made their way to the center of the Forest where the cup had been placed in the trunk of a hollowed out tree. Even though the Centaurs had been watching over the champions they hadn't been able to provide any answers as to what happened to Cedric.

"I w-went and saw Cedric after the Aurors had moved him from the forest. They had settled his body in an empty classroom on the second floor. I wasn't supposed to go see him but I just _had _too. The Minister was saying Cedric had been attacked by an animal, and I was expecting to see him torn to shreds. But when I opened the door to the classroom all I saw were his eyes. They were o-open and j-ust, just _empty_. There wasn't any missing flesh or blood or _anything_ that would indicate he was attacked by an animal."

Harry felt his chest constrict and pulled at his tie. It was getting difficult to breathe and he didn't know if it was due to the dusty particles that filled the air of the library or if it was the topic of conversation, he just knew he wanted to _leave_.

"It looked like h-he had been hit with the K-Killing Curse. And I know the Ministry d-doesn't believe you about You-Know-Who returning but I kn-know you wouldn't lie about something like that." Even though Cho wasn't sobbing anymore and the tears were drying up quickly, her breathe was still hitching and stuttering as she spoke. She had finally opened her eyes and was looking at Harry with a pleading expression.

"I j-just had to know the truth Harry. I know you weren't lying about You-Know-Who and I just n-needed you to tell me about Cedric. I needed to know if...if the Dark Lord had _killed_ him." Cho blew her nose in her handkerchief softly. "I just haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I _need _to know the truth about how Cedric died and I just don't _understand_ why the Ministry would lie about it when it was so _obvious_ that Cedric hadn't been killed by an animal."

"I don't know what to tell you Cho." Harry finally whispered after a few silent moments. "I saw Cedric in the Forest _once_ throughout the entire task and I honestly don't know for certain if Voldemort killed Cedric or not."

"What do you mean you _don't know?_ Dumbledore _told the press_ that –"

"I know what Dumbledore told the press." Harry interrupted softly. Cho had been speaking quietly this entire time but her voice was starting to rise as her sadness seemed to turn to hysteria and he really didn't want to draw the attention of Madame Pince or any of the other students in the library.

"I'm just saying that I didn't see Voldemort kill Cedric personally. Professor Moody wasn't _actually_ Moody – it was an imposter – and when Cedric had been found dead the fake Moody had fled immediately."

"So you're saying it was Moody who had killed Cedric? Why haven't you said anything to the Aurors then? People deserve to _know_ –"

"Cho." Harry interrupted once more. "Yes, I'm pretty sure the fake Moody was the one who killed Cedric, but I want you to understand that I didn't _see _Cedric die. If the imposter really did kill Cedric I don't know if it was on Voldemort's orders or if he acted on his own. I'm saying I _really don't know_ what happened and that's why I haven't told the Aurors anything. I've been guessing about it just like everyone else has. It's why I haven't made a statement to the press either. I know you want answers but the truth of the matter is that I. Don't. Know."

"But how could you not know?" Cho hissed as she shoved her handkerchief back into her pocket. She stood up and gathered her books into her arms protectively. "I know our break up was sudden but that doesn't give you the right to _lie_ –"

"I'm _not_ lying."

"Of course you are!" Cho whispered harshly. "Either you're still angry with me for leaving you for Cedric so suddenly or you're so _ashamed_ at being unable to save Cedric like you were _supposed_ too that you'd rather deny seeing anything at all –"

"If anyone should have been doing the saving it was Cedric." Ginny walked around the corner of a book shelf glaring at Cho. Harry released a shuddering breath in relief at the interruption. "Cedric _was_ three years Harry's senior, wasn't he?"

Cho glared at Ginny, taking a few small steps back to face the red-headed girl fully. "This doesn't concern you, _Ginny_."

"It concerned me the moment you started acting like a lunatic, _Cho_. If Harry says he doesn't know anything then he _doesn't_ know."

"Cho, if I really knew I would _tell _you." Harry affirmed. "Mr. and Mrs. Diggory asked me the same questions and I just wish I could actually tell them something –"

"You don't need to explain yourself to Chang." Ginny affirmed, stepping forward to stand in front of the desk separating Cho from Harry. Turning slightly towards Cho, Ginny folded her arms across her chest, wand in one hand as she lifted her head towards the 7th year Ravenclaw in defiance. "I think you should leave now. I know a lot of nasty curses and I'm not afraid to use them if you don't leave Harry alone."

Harry stood up, feeling everything was starting to get out of control. Even though he was thankful Ginny had provided a distraction from all the questions he wasn't able to answer, he didn't need to be _saved_.

"Ginny, I appreciate what you're doing but that doesn't mean you can just threaten –"

Cho turned around and ran out of the library before Harry could finish. Many students looked at Cho questioningly as she ran out, before peering over at Harry in his tucked away corner of the library before quickly turning back around when Harry and Ginny glared at them.

Harry sighed as he collapse back into his chair with a thump. Running his hands through his hair Harry looked at Ginny with a small frown.

"You really shouldn't have threatened to curse her Ginny."

Ginny sat down in the chair Cho had so recently vacated. "I suppose but I don't regret it at all. You obviously didn't want to talk about it and she wasn't going to let it go."

"I know."

"You _never_ want to talk about it and I don't understand why."

Harry scooted his chair closer to the table and picked up his quill, scanning his essay and trying to regain his train of thought before Cho had shown up. "Never talked about what?"

"You know. About what happened in the graveyard."

Harry tensed up, squeezing the quill in his hand harshly.

"When you woke up in the Hospital Wing all you told us what that you had been portkeyed away to a graveyard where you saw Voldemort's resurrection but you never said more than that." Ginny continued when Harry had remained silent. "I just want to know why. If something...happened you know you can tell us right?"

Harry's eyes narrowed, lifting his head to center his gaze on Ginny. Ginny was calmly twirling her wand between her fingers as she looked at Harry patiently.

"What are you implying?"

"I'm not implying anything. Obviously you aren't talking about the graveyard for a reason. I'm just saying that no matter what it is you can tell us. You can tell _me_. I did spend a whole year possessed by the evil git, after all."

"It isn't that I _don't_ want to talk about it, I just don't..." Harry ran his hand down his face. He wished the topic of the graveyard had never been brought up. He could have avoided this whole mess if he had just gone up to the common room to complete his homework. Fred and George's pranks be damned. Now he was faced with a load of questions about the graveyard and he just...didn't know where to even _start_.

"There's just a few things I'd like to...figure out for myself before saying anything."

Ginny leaned forward in her chair, her hand resting on Harry's arm. "You do know you can trust me, don't you?"

Ginny's thumb started tracing circles in his arm and Harry felt his stomach drop. Ginny had this _look_ in her eyes and Harry didn't want to deal with it. _Couldn't_ deal with it. He sat up quickly, shoving all his things back into his bag, not even looking at Ginny anymore.

"Harry, really, you don't have to leave." Ginny pleaded softly, her voice shaking just the slightest bit. She reached her hand out and grabbed Harry's arm once more. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean too – "

Harry shrugged her hand off his arm once more as he shoved the last of his things into his bag.

Harry knew Ginny had had a crush on him when she first started at Hogwarts. Hell, he knew she had a crush on him before she had even _met_ him from what he had heard from Ron and Fred and George. But he thought she was over that. Ginny had actually started talking to him last year instead of blushing whenever he looked at her before running away like she had the two years before that.

But now, after being in the library – a place he absolutely despises – and being interrogated by an emotional Cho and being asked questioned he didn't know how to start answering, Harry just couldn't handle Ginny's advances at the moment. He wasn't even entirely _positive_ if they were advances, and he didn't want to focus on that right now. He had never felt that way about her and he knew he never would. Ginny was his best mates sister – nearly considered her his own sister after the whole Chamber incident and didn't want to keep telling her he wasn't interested. Not at the moment at least.

"I've gotta go. I have a lot to do before my detention this evening. I'll see you later."

Harry had shouldered his bag and walked away before Ginny could respond.

* * *

After dodging three dung bombs, an enchanted bubble filled with paint, a mutated pixie and disabling three tripping hexes, Harry had finally managed to make it through the common room the Weasley twins had turned into a disaster area and up the stairs to the 5th year boys dorm.

It was thankfully empty since Harry wanted nothing more than to be alone at the moment. Setting his bag on the top of his desk, Harry loosened his tie. wishing the day would be over. Unfortunately he still had dinner and his last 'detention' with Snape for the week before he could go to bed.

Before he could mope over his unsuccessful Occlumency lessons, Harry felt a hard jab in his left side as he plunked down onto his bed gracelessly. Sitting up, Harry discovered that he had fallen on a rather large package and a book that had been placed on his bed.

It took Harry a few moments to realize what he was holding, but once he figured it out his chest bubbled with excitement. He had completely forgotten about the package from Sirius he had received earlier this week. Harry remembered shrinking it but hadn't removed it from his robes at all. He assumed the house elves had discovered the package while doing laundry and he was thankful they had retrieved it before the package was ruined.

The book that was sitting on top of the package was unfamiliar though. It was a worn, thin black book with the title reading as _'The Knights of Walpurgis' _in faded silver script. Harry thumbed through the book quickly in order to identify if it could possibly belong to one of his dorm mates, only to find that the book was _empty._ Empty except for one sentence that had been written on the very first page of the book. It read:

_'People see what they want to see and what people want to see never has anything to do with the truth.'*_

Shrugging, Harry tossed the book aside before ripping open the package from Sirius.

Inside the package was a rectangular mirror about the size of his hand and a large dusty tome. On top of the mirror was a small square bit of parchment with the instructions to _'Say my name while looking in the mirror'._ Harry had only managed to finish reading before the parchment burst into flames, leaving only smudges of ash on the tips of his fingers.

Confused, Harry picked up the mirror carefully. He was definitely wary of such instructions but knew he could trust his godfather. So, looking in the mirror, he hesitantly whispered the words, "Sirius Black".

A second later, the mirror warmed up in his hand, the surface of the mirror seemed to ripple like a drop of rain hitting the surface of a small pond and Harry could suddenly see his godfather.

Sirius was grinning from ear to ear as Harry's jaw dropped, looking at his godfather in shock.

"Hiya Pup. What took you so long to call? I sent you this package _days_ ago." The mirror shifted as Sirius leaned back against Buckbeak's feathers, biting into a bright red apple. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you were avoiding me."

Harry's brain finally kicked into gear that he was actually talking to _Sirius_ and he sputtered. "S-Sirius! How is this – what are you – we're talking through a mirror!"

"It's a two-way mirror. Made it myself. I figured since we hadn't been able to write at all this summer that you'd enjoy actually being able to talk with me."

Harry fell back against his head board, a huge grin on his face. "Sirius, this is brilliant! I've definitely missed you."

"I've missed you too Pup."

"I definitely would have called sooner if I had known about this. I had shrunk down the package when I received it and forgotten about it by the end of the day. I just got it back from the house-elves today." Harry explained quickly, feeling a little guilty for forgetting about the package in the first place even though there _had_ been a lot going on. "It's definitely been a while since I've seen you. You look great."

Sirius did look a lot better. When Harry had seen him a few times last year the man had gained some weight but had still looked sickly and gaunt. Now, Sirius looked much healthier and his hair was trimmed and groomed. The man was even wearing a set of robes from what Harry could tell instead of the old rags he had taken to wearing last year while camping in the caves in Hogsmeade.

"Let me tell you, I _feel_ great. The rat bastard Wormtail was sent to the DMLE gift wrapped and I'm well on my way to gaining my freedom. Life couldn't be going better. The only thing that would have made this summer any better is if you had been here with me for the holiday."

"I wish I was able to have seen you too."

Sirius got a contemplative frown on his face, discarding the apple core and running his hand through Buckbeak's feathers. "I tried writing to you multiple times and I could never get the owl past the wards on my place. I even left the house, disguised as Padfoot of course, and sent you an owl from London but it just came back undelivered."

Harry frowned as he thought of what the Headmaster had told him a few days ago. "Do you know why I wasn't allowed to get any letters? I mean, Dumbledore sort of explained all the security restrictions when I talked to him a few days ago but he didn't say anything about the owls."

"He spoke to you about this?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. He called me into his office and told me about how you're getting a trial sometime in December and that I wasn't able to go to Headquarters because my mind is unprotected from Voldemort's intrusion or something. I guess it had to do with the visions I was having last year also."

"So you're starting the Occlumency lessons already?" Sirius asked, his voice gruffer to convey his disapproval.

"You know about them?" Harry questioned with a bit of confusion.

Sirius rolled his eyes and gave a little wave of his hand. "Dumbledore had spoken of starting the lessons in one of the first Order meetings. Even though I felt it was important for you to learn I wasn't at all happy about who he'd planned on teaching the subject to you."

Sirius then wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Snivellus isn't giving you a hard time with it is he?"

Harry shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. "Um...no? It's hard to say since I'm not really learning anything. He isn't really one to explain stuff...or allow me to ask questions but I'm doing my best to clear my mind each night like he told me too. I just wish there was a book or something I could read about this but I hadn't been able to find anything in the library. Not even in the Restricted Section."

"Hmm, well you wouldn't find anything in the library. I'd be _surprised_ if you found a text on it at all."

Harry frowned. "Not even in the Black Library?"

"Nope." Sirius answered, popping the 'P' as he spoke. "Occlumency was basically outlawed a few hundred years ago. All materials that taught the art were either confiscated, destroyed, or hidden in family vaults. Pureblood families are the only ones that have passed on the art by teaching it to each generation. It's possible there's something in the Black vaults but I'm unable to go to Gringott's and check while I'm still considered an escaped convict."

Harry frowned and felt a swell of worry start to fill his chest. He brushed the feeling away, deciding to figure out something else later. He had been depending on Sirius having something that would help him learn Occlumency since he wasn't making any progress with Snape. Even though Harry had only been at it for a week, he still thought he would have learned _something_ by now.

"Well I have a lesson soon and don't really want to talk about it much."

Sirius nodded. "That's understandable. Let me know if you're having difficulties and I'll see what I can do. Don't stress about it too much though, you're just starting and it takes years of practice to master the mind arts."

Harry didn't know how he _couldn't_ stress about it since his ability to be with Sirius this Christmas holiday completely depended on how well he progressed in Occlumency. He didn't think the Headmaster expected him to be a master of the art in just a few short months but Harry was hoping he'd at least have a grasp of the fundamentals by then...as soone as he figured out what the fundamentals _were._

"As for the owl restriction Albus put in place...I think it's more that Albus was worried about harmful mail getting to you through the wards more than anything. Blood wards _are_ very powerful but even the most powerful wards have weaknesses and ways to bypass them if you're clever enough. Even the Fidelius isn't fool proof and Albus knows that."

Harry shifted in his bed uncomfortably. Unsure if he should ask what he _really_ wanted to ask.

"So...it doesn't have anything to do with something I did?" Harry ventured not so subtly.

Sirius frowned worriedly. "Something you did? What are you talking about Pup?"

"Well, you know. This isn't about what happened at the Third Task or graveyard is it?"

Sirius sighed, a sad look crossing over his face momentarily before flitting away. "No of course it isn't. You know nobody in the Order blames you for what happened, right? Albus doesn't blame you. Nobody could have known you'd be abducted by that portkey. It's a miracle you returned to us alive at all."

Harry just shrugged, not really wanting to delve into the topic much further.

"Why would you think it had something to do with the graveyard?"

"Well...apparently Fred and George had overheard one of the Order meetings and heard Dumbledore _saying_ my summer restrictions was due to what happened in the graveyard." Harry was a bit hesitant to say anything about Fred and George spying on Order meetings but figured Sirius wouldn't make too much of a fuss about it. He just _really_ needed to ask about it though. Ever since Hermione and Ron had told them about what the twins had overheard Harry had been worrying about it.

"It must have been one of the Order meetings I missed." Sirius finally said after frowning in thought for a few moments. "I haven't heard of Albus saying something like that so I'll check around and see if I can confirm what Fred and George overheard. I know they had been listening in to a few of the meetings with some flesh-coloured string they had charmed so it's possible they just misheard what Albus was saying if their charm work was a bit off."

"Yeah I suppose." Harry agreed, but not really believing it. Fred and George were meticulous in their spell work – at least for their pranking items – and that they wouldn't use something unless they were _sure_ it was going to work properly.

"I'll let you know if I find anything out. Until then there's something I wanted to tell you."

Harry raised a brow curiously as he watched Sirius fumble about with his pockets, searching for something within the folds of his robes while trying to keep a hold of the mirror. Finally, with a frustrated growl Sirius flicked his wand and levitated his mirror in place so as to free both of his hands. After a few more moments of searching he pulled out a very worn piece of parchment and unfolded it.

"I've been corresponding with my solicitor a lot the past few months. Not only have I been working on getting this blasted trial put in place but I've also been having him work on getting myself proclaimed your legal guardian." Sirius mumbled to himself quietly as he read a few lines of the parchment he held to himself as though trying to ensure he understood something.

Harry just smiled as happiness slowly filled him knowing that Sirius still wanted to be his guardian despite everything that's been happening. That Sirius' offer of living with him hadn't just been the desperate wishes of an escaped prisoner on the run from the law.

"My solicitor, Lord Rolf, told me that when your parents had died and I was imprisoned, that your parents' Will had been sealed. Because of that, their wishes that I become your guardian after their death didn't go into effect. I guess it's part of the reasons you ended up with the Dursley's. Although it wouldn't have really mattered at the time since I _was_ sent to Azkaban."

"Why were my parents' Will sealed?"

Sirius scanned through the letter again for a moment. "I'm not sure. Lord Rolf isn't entirely positive but he says he's going to look into it and see if he can get the Will unsealed. In his letter, Lord Rolf says he suspects it has something to do with the martial law that was put into affect at the time of Voldemort's death and probably had something to do with protecting your whereabouts from rogue Death Eaters or some other such nonsense."

"So if we're able to get the Will read you'll be able to be my guardian?" Harry asked, a little confused.

"Sort of. Lord Rolf explained that it would help in securing my right as your legal guardian once this trial mess is over. Of course that's _if_ the trial goes well and I'm set free, but hopefully nothing will go wrong with that. But I will have to file for your guardianship and if anyone contests my application I'll have to prove that I have more of a right to be your guardian. Having actual _proof_ that this was what Lily and James wanted will help me significantly."

Sirius then held the parchment up and gave it a little wave in the mirror so Harry was looking at it. "But see how this parchment is a bit old? I've obviously written to my solicitor since then, this just holds the majority of his explanations. I needed to tell you this because Lord Rolf thinks he's found a way to get the Will unsealed and says that he'll need to speak with you and ask a few questions in order to know what course of action he'll need to take."

"He needs to speak with me?" Harry repeated, a bit perplexed by the thought. "But why?"

"Don't worry about it too much Pup." Sirius said with a reassuring smile. "He says he just needs to ask you a few questions about the Dursleys and make sure that you _want_ me to be your guardian. He says that if you provide a statement saying you want this, that it will help immensely. But I've already done a bit of delving into Lord Rolf and he seems clean and doesn't appear to have any ties with Death Eaters or other dark sympathizers that were involved in the last war. I haven't met him yet but I'll be able too soon. So I'll make sure he's safe before I let you speak with him, I promise."

Harry frowned. "You mean you haven't even met with your solicitor yet?"

Harry thought that was bit odd but knew he wasn't really sure how this sort of thing worked, let alone how it worked in the wizarding world. He wasn't happy _anybody_ wanted to ask questions about the Dursley's, but decided he could always avoid the questions or lie about them if necessary. Depending on what the questions _are_.

"No, I haven't been able too – it's very risky at the moment for me to wander outside. Even though I _hate_ to say it, it's true and I don't want to do anything that would jeopardize all this. Especially since I'm so close to being free of this nightmare." Sirius waved his hand, as though brushing away all those troublesome thoughts. "Anyway, I've just been sending and receiving owls from Lord Rolf the past couple months but from the results he's garnered so far, he's damn good at what he does."

"Well, how did you find out about Lord Rolf if you've never met him? Isn't that a bit odd?"

Sirius grinned. "A bit odd, yes. Convenient? Very much so. Lord Rolf actually contacted _me_."

"He contacted _you?_" Harry questioned incredulously.

"Yes, about a week after Wormtail popped into the DMLE. I had been trying to contact and work with a law firm that had been on retainer for the Black family for a few decades before my father died. Anyway, I wasn't having a lot of luck getting them on board with this trial and I suddenly received a letter from Lord Rolf offering his services. I had ignored it, thinking it suspicious that someone would _willingly_ offer to take on this case. About two weeks later I received another letter from Lord Rolf, only this time his owl came bearing news that he had the Kiss on Sight order _rescinded."_

Harry's eyes widened. "Wow. He really did that, even though you hadn't even responded to his first letter?"

Sirius nodded happily. "He sure did. I hired him immediately after that, of course." He stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

Harry grinned. "Of course."

"So would you be willing to meet with Lord Rolf and answer his questions?" Sirius asked this so hopefully Harry knew if he were in his animagus form that Padfoot would be wagging his tail in eager anticipation.

"Yeah, I suppose that would be fine." Harry didn't think the man could be too terrible if he had done _that_ for his godfather when he hadn't even been paid at the time. "I'm not sure if Dumbledore will allow it though..." Harry pointed out, cringing a little when Sirius' hopeful features suddenly morphed into a severe expression of determination.

"You let me handle Albus. I'll make sure everything is arranged when the time comes. You most likely won't be meeting with Lord Rolf until after the New Year, so no worries until then. I'll let him know you've agreed and then I'll inform you when he has a date in mind and I'll get everything arranged for you to go over to his office. Sound good?"

"Sounds good." Harry agreed with a grin. He was just glad he was able to do all this and help his godfather become his rightful guardian; not having to worry about what the Headmaster might think about all of this.

"All right, enough of all this _Sirius_ talk." Sirius proclaimed with a grin, sitting up and folding his legs underneath him while he tapped his knees rhythmically with excited energy. "I'm sure you're wondering what else I had sent you."

Harry nodded as he reached across his bed to retrieve the worn tome from the box. There wasn't any title on the cover and he hadn't been able to open it at all. Harry assumed it was something exciting judging from how Sirius was acting over the whole thing.

"Consider it a late birthday gift. Obviously I would have sent it to you when it _was_ your actual birthday, but since I wasn't able too, this will have to do. Now, Harry, Pup, my little _Prongslet!_ Prepare to be amazed! What you are holding in your hands is the one and _only_ copy of _'The Marauder's Grimoire'_."

Harry blinked while Sirius' grin grew wider. Harry really _looked_ at the tome this time, smiling with the force of a thousand suns at what he saw. On the leather cover of the tome was an imprinted image of a stag, a doe, a dog, and a wolf.

"This is amazing." Harry whispered, tracing his finger softly over the imprinted images.

"I'm glad you think so Pup. I knew you would enjoy it." Sirius boasted in smug satisfaction. "Now, it isn't officially called _'The Marauder's_ _Grimoire'._ We were never able to settle on a name so that's just what I prefer to call it. As you can see from the imprinted images there is a doe instead of rat. As you know, the rat was Wormtail, but he never contributed to the book so he was never bound to it. _Thankfully_. Hindsight and all that. As for the doe, even though Lily never became an Animagus, her Patronus was a doe. So that was what we decided to use to represent her."

"My mother wrote in this?" Harry asked softly, his chest clenching slightly. Harry had his father's cloak and his map and his disastrous hair, but he didn't have anything of his mothers except her eyes. And now he held something that his mother had _written _in.

"How do I open the Grimoire?" Harry questioned as he had been unable to even get the cover to crack open a hairs width.

Sirius' image in the mirror suddenly flickered away. Harry dropped the tome on the bed and held the mirror in both hands as he tried to figure out what happened. Had he broken the mirror somehow?

"Harry?"

Harry flinched violently at the voice that had spoken behind him, swiveling around quickly in shock. He relaxed slightly when he saw it was Tom. His worry over what might have happened to the mirror made his veins still thrum in anxiety though.

"Hey Tom, haven't see you since Defense. Everything all right?" Harry asked as he put the mirror in his robe pocket.

He couldn't figure out why Tom would be in the dorm room at the moment. Tom had been disappearing lately after the last class of the day, and only showing up again for dinner before disappearing once more. Hermione had said she'd seen him wandering the grounds and corridors a few times, while scribbling notes into a leather journal he had. Harry didn't think it was all that unusual. The majority of the students had done their wandering of the castle their first year, but Tom didn't get to attend Hogwarts until now and the tall teen would definitely be busy discovering hidden passageways the students liked to use on occasion.

"Yes, I was simply wandering the corridors and exploring." Tom perched on the edge of his bed that was right next to Harry's. "Is that the package you received earlier this week?" Tom asked as he indicated the open box that still sat on Harry's bed and the tome that was settled next to it.

"Yeah, I wasn't able to open it until now." Harry explained as he put the tome back in the box before sliding it beneath his bed.

"Is that why you missed dinner?"

"Dinner?" Harry asked, brow furrowing in confusion as he flicked his wand to check the time. His eyes widened when he saw that dinner ended about half an hour ago. He must have been speaking with Sirius longer than he thought.

Tom nodded as he pulled a bundle of cloth from his robes, opening it to reveal a wrapped sandwich and slices of apple. "I brought this from the kitchen for you if you decided you wanted to eat."

Harry grinned as he grabbed the bundle of cloth, feeling his heart flutter in his chest as he felt a hum of energy when his fingers brushed ever so slightly over Tom's. "Yeah I do. I didn't actually intend to miss dinner at all. I can't believe I lost track of so much time. Thanks for getting this for me."

Tom hummed in acknowledgment as he pulled his now ever present journal from another robe pocket before placing it inside his desk, tapping his wand to the wood of the drawer to seal it shut.

"Your friends were worried by your absence. I told them it was possible you were having another meeting with the Headmaster and not to worry. They're actually waiting for you down in the common room. I certainly didn't expect to find you here."

Harry tensed worriedly. "Er...no, I just lost track of time like I said."

Tom looked at Harry with an incredulous gaze for a moment before giving a soft, pleased smile. "That's understandable." He said, with easy nonchalance.

Harry relaxed when Tom let the subject go.

When he had woken a few days ago and realized what he had sleepily told Tom the night before Harry had panicked, worried that Tom now knew he was getting history lessons about Voldemort from the Headmaster.

Even though Dumbledore didn't specifically _say_ that Harry couldn't tell anyone about his 'Voldemort History Lessons', he figured if he wasn't even allowed to tell Ron and Hermione about the Occlumency lessons then he definitely wasn't able to tell anyone about the Headmasters instruction. Especially since Dumbledore had stressed the fact that Harry needed to learn Occlumency in order to protect whatever information Dumbledore will be teaching him.

Harry had been a nervous wreck for the first few hours, worried he'd have to tell Dumbledore about his slip up. But when Tom had continued on throughout the rest of the day with his charming smiles, not once bringing up the subject of the lessons or pestering Harry about it, Harry's worry had decreased significantly.

The thing that had really set Harry's mind as ease though when Tom hadn't even said anything about the lessons to Ron and Hermione when Harry had told them later that day that Dumbledore had just wanted to speak to him about Sirius.

Tom obviously wasn't one to gossip and didn't seem to have any desire _to_ tell anyone about Harry's private lessons. Harry figured that if Tom _was_ going to tell someone, the only people he could tell that would actually do any harm were the Slytherins. Especially since a good portion of them were children of Death Eaters.

It turned out Harry didn't need to worry about Tom telling the Slytherins anything either. Since it seemed that Tom didn't interact with the Slytherins _at all._ In fact, it seemed as though Tom was _avoiding _them.

Many of the students were still immensely curious about Tom since it was rare for Hogwarts to get a transfer student. Because of this, it was common for many students to stop Tom in the halls to ask him questions. When this happened Tom would usually give them a charming smile and engage in polite conversation; answering all their questions without a single complaint.

But when it was the _Slytherin_ students who did this, Tom would politely yet quickly disengage from the conversation and continue on his way to whatever class they had next.

Harry thought it was rather odd but decided he wasn't really one to complain about avoiding Slytherins.

Harry had made it a policy to just avoid all Slytherins as much as possible, whether or not he had an actual problem with them or not, just to avoid any conflict. It seemed that Tom had adopted the same principle and Harry couldn't really blame him for it.

By the end of that day Harry had decided he didn't need to worry about Tom knowing about the lessons and that it wasn't necessary for Harry to inform the Headmaster about it. Although Harry knew secrecy was important, he couldn't help but wonder what the Headmaster would do _if_ Harry told him what he had told Tom.

Would Dumbledore _Obliviate_ Tom?

Harry supposed it was possible if what Dumbledore was teaching him was as important as he said it was. And Harry thought it would be horrible for that to happen to Tom just because Harry wasn't able to keep his sleepy mouth shut.

Harry had even admitted to himself that he had been reluctant to tell Dumbledore at all simply because he was worried Dumbledore would change his mind about the lessons if he did; thinking Harry wasn't mature enough to have them and would have to wait 'until he was older'. Dumbledore had said as much back in his first year and he had been bitter about it for a few days afterward.

Harry hated being kept in the dark and he would never forgive himself for _finally_ being informed about certain aspects of the war only to lose the privilege because of one slip up.

Harry frowned, swallowing the remaining portion of his turkey sandwich, watching Tom reading through another stack of letters he had received this morning at breakfast.

Harry was still wondering _why_ he had told Tom about the lessons in the first place. He could have just told Tom about the discussion with Sirius – like he had with Hermione and Ron – and left it at that without any problems.

Although Harry knew he was a terrible liar, he had never had trouble before keeping important details to himself when necessary. He didn't really think he had as much of a problem with _omitting_ information as he did with _lying_ about it. It was something he'd have to think about.

"So when did you find the kitchens?" Harry asked as he tossed the cloth that had held the food into the laundry hamper, knowing the house-elves would find it sooner or later.

"A few days ago."

Harry looked at the drawer where Tom had locked his journal. "Have you found anything else? Is that why you're always scribbling away in that journal of yours?"

"I have found and used a few passages, simply for ease of movement throughout the castle but my focus isn't on finding hidden rooms or secret passageways. I'm mostly making observations on the enchantments and wards throughout the castle and grounds." Tom answered as he pulled new sheets of parchment from his desk in order to respond to his letters.

Harry couldn't help but continue to feel his curiosity grow the more letters Tom received. Tom still used the distortion charm on all of them, so Harry had no idea who they were even from, since the charm distorted the names of the sender on the envelopes as well. Harry didn't doubt that some of the envelopes were from Tom's parents but he doubted that _all_ the letters were from them.

"Well, I know where loads of passages and hidden tunnels are. I could always show you a few if you're interested." Harry offered as he flicked his wand to check the time once more. Cursing, Harry stood up and attempted to straighten out his tie.

"I'll let you know if I do. Do you have another detention tonight?" Tom asked as he saw Harry's annoyed expression.

"Yeah, last one for the week, thank Merlin. At least with Snape. I still have detention with Umbridge Saturday afternoon though."

"At least it's just the one detention instead of a months worth. If that's any consolation."

Harry shrugged. "I suppose."

It hadn't really been any consolation since Umbridge scared Harry more than Snape did at the moment. Snape was a git but he was a _predictable_ git. Harry knew what to expect from the bitter wizard, but Umbridge was still an unknown. He had no idea how she handled her detentions and he didn't want to find out. Unfortunately, he would be finding out in just two days.

"Good luck."

"Thanks!" Harry called back as he ran out of the dorm room.

After hastily telling Ron and Hermione that no, he hadn't been with the Headmaster during dinner and that he would explain about his absence later, he bolted out of the common room and ran down the stairs as he headed towards the dungeons. Even though he really didn't have the energy to expend on running throughout the castle at the moment, he would rather suffer through his exhaustion than deal with Snape's tirade if he showed up late.

Harry felt the mirror in his pocket as he ran and he couldn't help but worry if it still worked or not. He would have to wait until later to try and activate the mirror again but he knew he wouldn't be able to do that if Snape found a memory of him using the mirror and confiscated it out of spite.

If that happened then Harry wouldn't have any way to contact Sirius. Harry knew he wouldn't be able to risk sending Sirius an owl; worried that if his letter was intercepted it would jeopardize Sirius' chance at getting a fair trial and being declared a free man.

So, as Harry arrived at Snape's office door, he took several calming breaths in order to settle himself and attempted to _will_ his mind clear. He was determined to make progress in tonight's lesson and he'd be damned if Snape found out about the mirror.

At the end of the lesson, when his head felt like it had been split open and his knees had bleed from all the times he's fallen to the ground, Harry had concluded that tonight hadn't been a _complete_ failure. No, he hadn't been able to keep Snape from entering his mind, or even manage to kick the greasy git out, but he _had_ managed to keep the memory of his conversation from Sirius from being viewed at all.

That had to mean he was making _some_ progress, right?

* * *

*quote from Robert Bolano's novel _2666_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The same broad shouldered man Harry had first dreamed about several nights ago had continued to make an appearance in his dreams each night.

The first time he'd had the dream, Harry hadn't worried about it. The dream had been enjoyable. It had made him feel safe and he had slept better than he had in months, waking up refreshed and all the aches and muscle pains from the day before had all but disappeared.

But when Harry had the same dream the following night, he had immediately felt suspicious. The faceless man had done nothing more than hiss soft words while rubbing something into his skin soothingly. It had been the same from the first time he'd had the dream.

But _since_ it was the same, Harry was very suspicious about the sudden absence of his cramped and painful muscles that had plagued him the night before. Harry had wondered if there really _was_ someone sneaking into his bed at night to rub some sort of potion all over his skin.

So Harry had checked the skin on his arms, legs and torso but hadn't been able to detect any sort of residue that would be left behind from a medicinal cream or potion being used. So there hadn't been any proof that he was being rubbed down with anything at all during the night – which was a relief.

Then, Harry had confirmed that he was wearing the same bed clothes he had fallen asleep with, because in his dreams he had always been stripped down to nothing but his boxers. But each morning when he woke up, he was still wearing his black pajama bottoms and white sleep shirt.

But even with all these things showing Harry that his dream probably wasn't real at all, there was still the fact that Harry's physical condition was getting better after each dream. He supposed he could just attribute his better health to a well night of rest, but it didn't seem possible for sleep to be responsible for the dramatic results he was experiencing.

When he had first arrived at Hogwarts his skin was clammy and pale, his hands were constantly shaking and it was painful to move as his muscles screamed in protest. He had even been late to his first DADA lesson because of how slowly he had been moving due to his muscle weakness and lack of energy.

But after the second night he'd had the dream, his skin had taken on it's usual healthy tone and his muscle pain and weakness had nearly disappeared completely. He no longer had any difficulty trekking through the castle the majority of the day. His hands were no longer shaking and he was able to hold his wand and utensils without having to exert so much effort into holding them steady to make sure he didn't end up accidentally hurting himself.

The thing that had really convinced Harry that he wasn't just dreaming was the fact that his appetite had increased significantly. And that was _very_ unusual. Even though Harry had never experienced many problems recovering from the Dursley's 'care', the thing he had _always_ struggled with was regaining his appetite after each summer.

It usually took several weeks for Harry to be able to stomach healthy amounts of food once he reached Hogwarts, but by Christmas holiday he was eating every single meal and able to enjoy the richer foods Hogwarts provided without becoming nauseous and sicking up later. So it was very suspicious that his appetite was recovering at such an alarming speed.

So Harry had decided to put a simple perimeter spell around his bed that would trigger if someone tried getting into his bed during the night. He had even put an alarm spell on his curtains that would wake the entire dorm room if someone other than himself attempted to open them during the night.

It was with some surprise when he woke up the next morning, after having the same dream a third night in a row, to discover that none of his alarms had went off or even been disabled and put back into place. Harry had once again checked his skin for medicinal residue, ensured he was still wearing the same pajamas, and double checked that his spells hadn't been tampered with, and he hadn't found _anything_ to prove that his dreams were real.

Of course, after this continued on into the fourth night of having the same dream, Harry had felt very silly for assuming that his dream was real. He didn't even know _why_ someone would even bother sneaking into his bed each night in the first place. Not only that, Harry was feeling _better_. If someone wanted to sneak around and douse him in potions it would only be if they intended him some sort of harm, surely.

Instead, his appetite continued to improve with each day and he hadn't had another recurrence of the painful muscle cramps that had disappeared a few nights before.

The only thing that wasn't improving vastly was his energy levels.

As the Professors started instructing them in more spell work as the week went on, Harry soon realized that his magic levels weren't where they were supposed to be. He was struggling to cast spells he had already mastered years before and it was nearly impossible for him to cast the new repertoire of spells they were learning. And Harry just _knew_ it was related to his lacking energy levels somehow.

Harry wasn't sure _why_ he was so tired all the time, but his energy levels were improving each night, slowly but surely, and he could see the results as his spell casting slowly improved each day. Even though he woke up feeling fully rested, his energy would drain rapidly as the day progressed. But it appeared that the rate at which he became fatigued lessened with each day.

Even though Harry didn't understand why he continued to have the same dream each night, he couldn't deny that they _were_ enjoyable and he always woke up extremely well rested. Now that he had proven to himself that nothing was being done to him during the night and that he really _was_ just dreaming, Harry had started to look forward to the dreams.

So when Harry went to bed that night after surviving his last detention with Snape for the rest of the week, he fully expected to have the same pleasant dream and to wake up with a slight improvement to his energy.

What Harry _wasn't_ expecting was to wake up Friday morning with a muffled moan spilling across his lips; his body shuddering as he felt a warm stickiness spill across his thighs. He had hurriedly jerked fully awake, grabbing his wand from under his pillow and spelling his pants clean of the mess. Embarrassed, Harry had peaked outside of his bed curtains to ensure he hadn't woken or alerted his dorm mates to the fact that he'd just come all over himself.

It wasn't until Harry was washing his hair in the shower that he realized he had been aroused by his dream, a dream that centered around a broad shouldered _man_.

As the stream of shower water rained down over his head, Harry wondered for the very first time if he was gay.

He wasn't sure if he was, because he _had_ enjoyed snogging Cho those few times he'd had the opportunity to do so last year. It had even made him hard a few times and he had wanked in the showers while thinking about his tongue in her mouth and his hand groping her breasts and playing with her nipples.

But when Harry thought back to the broad shouldered man he'd been dreaming about each night, and how it felt when those long fingered hands had occasionally trailed over the sensitive skin of his stomach and thighs; Harry had realized that the arousal he had felt from the dream had been so much more _intense_ than the arousal he had felt with Cho.

And it was just a _dream_.

He remembered when he had woken up how he had felt a hot warmth burning low in his gut and how his breathing had been ragged and his heart had beat furiously in chest, and how he couldn't help but _moan_ as his cock had jerked out his orgasm as he came untouched. And it had _never_ been like that with Cho.

These thoughts buzzed through Harry's mind throughout the day as he went through classes and attempted to complete his homework. When he started to wonder why he hadn't been aroused by men before if he really _was _gay, he had started looking at the male population of the school in a way he never had before and that had just _confused_ him all the more.

He knew he didn't find every female at Hogwarts to be attractive and he knew he couldn't expect himself to find every male at Hogwarts attractive either so he was at a complete loss by lunch time as to whether or not he was gay.

Harry had then remembered that some people were _bisexual_ as well but that had just increase his confusion. By the time evening had arrived, and Harry was lounging about the common room as he waited with the rest of the 5th years for Professor Sinistra to escort them to the Astronomy Tower for their late night Astronomy lesson, Harry had decided to save himself from all the confusion and assume what had happened this morning was due to raging teenage hormones and nothing more.

Harry had decided that if something like this morning happened again or he caught himself wanking while thinking about cock, then he would know for sure he was gay. Until then, he was happy to brush the whole incident aside and instead focus his energy on telling Ron and Hermione about the two-way mirror Sirius had sent him.

"So were you able to get the mirror working again?" Ron asked as he inspected the mirror in fascination.

"Yes, I was able to speak with Sirius a bit before breakfast. Turns out, the mirror has all sorts of privacy spells so no one can overhear the conversation between the two mirrors. It's why the mirror had disengaged when Tom had shown up since Sirius hadn't taught me how to manage all the privacy charms this thing has."

"You didn't ask Sirius to send you those books again, did you?" Hermione asked with a frown as Harry placed the mirror back in his robe pocket.

Harry rolled his eyes. "No "Mione, he was just telling me about his trial and the Grimoire he'd sent me. I didn't even think about those dueling books when I was talking to him."

"That's good I suppose. I hope this Grimoire isn't anything dark either." Hermione stated with a bit of a warning tone in her voice to let Harry know that she _will_ tell if the Grimoire is, in fact, something dark.

"I highly doubt that it is. Sirius called it _'The Marauder's Grimoire'._ Only, it isn't just the Marauder's. Pettigrew never contributed to the book but apparently my mum _did_."

"Oh, Harry that's fantastic. I'm glad you're able to have a few things of your parents. Have you been able to see what they've written in the book yet?"

"No, I have to wait for Sirius to call me back and help me through getting the book to open. Apparently it's a pretty lengthy process since the Grimoire only opens to those who – "

"If the two of you are just going to talk about books the rest of the night, I'm going to join Dean in the game of gobstones he's setting up over there." Ron interrupted as he pointed to the small cluster of students playing games on the other side of the common room.

Harry glared at Ron, clenching his fists at the interruption. He was starting to think that Ron was incapable of going more than a few days without acting like a spoiled git.

"So what if we will be talking about books?" Hermione asked hotly as she glared at Ron as well.

"You know I don't care about books. Harry never did before either and I don't know why he has a sudden interest now. Why can't we just talk about Quidditch or something that's actually _interesting_ for once."

"There's a lot more to life than just Quidditch you know – "

"It isn't just a _book_ Ron." Harry spoke over Hermione, his voice tight. "It's a Grimoire that my _parents_ helped to create. Can you blame me if I'm interested in what my parents left inside?"

"Well...no." Ron mumbled, ducking his head sheepishly. "I understand that mate, really. I just don't know what there is to talk about if you haven't even been able to open – "

"Maybe you _should_ just play gobstone's with Dean if you're going to be a prat about it." Harry snapped as he felt his anger rise the more Ron spoke.

Ron huffed angrily he stood up. "Fine. See if I care. Enjoy having Longbottom as your partner. Let's hope he doesn't toss the telescope off the tower like he did last year."

Hermione sighed when Ron stomped off to the other side of the common room. "Well, that could have been handled better."

"I don't want to hear it Hermione." Harry said as he started to breath slowly in an attempt to keep his temper under control.

"Fine, I'll drop it for now, but you two really need to stop arguing so much." Hermione pointed out before plopping a pocket sized book onto Harry's lap.

"What's this?"

"Well when you started talking about Sirius it reminded me about that book I promised to give you."

"You mean about how the spells I used last year were cast with dark magic?" Harry asked as he held the worn book in his hands. The title read _'Diseases of the Magical Core'_. "This looks like some sort of medical book."

"It is in a way. There's a section that's listed in the index of a study that was conducted on the effects dark magic has on the magical core."

"You really think there is such a thing as actual dark magic?" Harry asked a bit distractedly when he noticed Ron pulling out several galleons as he bet on the ongoing games. "I mean, I've always thought that when a spell was considered 'dark' it was because the spell was cruel or lethal in some way."

"I used to think that too, until I read this book. There's a list of other books referenced in there that I've read as well and what I learned was very disconcerting."

Harry sighed as he placed the book in his bag. "Fine, I'll look through it when I can."

Hermione shook her head. "No I need it back by tomorrow evening. I've bookmarked the section you need to read and it shouldn't take you more than a half hour to finish it. It's _really_ important for you to understand how harmful those spells were that you used, Harry. You really need to be more careful about the books you read, especially if it's something from the Black Library."

"Why do you need it back so soon?" Harry asked with his brow raised. "And is it really that big of a deal as you say it is or are you just being dramatic? Those shield spells I learned were really useful during the tournament and I don't think it'd matter if I – "

"You _cannot_ use those spells again Harry – no matter how useful or convenient you think they are." Hermione angled herself on the couch cushion to face Harry fully, her face set firmly to let him know how serious she was about all this. "I don't have time to explain it all, but using those spells could _kill_ you."

Well, Harry hadn't expected her to say _that_.

"Just _promise_ me you'll read that book, Harry. You'll understand what I mean once you do. I know I've been nagging about those _Dietrich_ books since after the Second Task, but that's only because I don't want you to end up in Saint Mungo's because of a damaged magical core or _die_."

The portrait door opened then to reveal Tom stepping through from his late night wandering just a few moments before Professor Sinistra appeared. "Hurry along students, there's a lot of material to get through and the sky is clear at the moment."

The loitering fifth years in the common room grabbed their bags while Harry bit his bottom lip hesitantly. Harry knew Hermione was being serious about this and that she wouldn't insist on giving Harry extra reading material when she knew how behind he already was on homework unless it was important.

"All right, I'll read it tomorrow. Promise."

Hermione nodded approvingly before the two of them joined the throng of students filtering out the portrait door.

Despite the fact Harry had promised to read it, he couldn't help but put the whole thing off the next morning, preferring to focus instead on his pile of homework that he had managed to procure this week.

Even though Harry understood it was his OWLs year he had been surprised by the heavy work load the Professors were assigning out instead of sticking to the slow start that he had grown used too at the beginning of each school year. It had only been the first week of classes and he was already behind on his assignments, even though Hermione didn't seem to be having any problems with the work load at all.

Hermione had holed herself up in the library early this morning after a quick five minute breakfast, even though she had already finished her assignments, saying she wanted to work on a more detailed revision schedule than the Professors had put them all on.

It appeared that while Hermione was ahead, and Harry was struggling to catch up, Ron had decided to ignore the entire concept of homework. After breakfast Ron had disappeared without saying a word, but Harry assumed he had went out to the Quidditch Pitch since Ron had been going there during every spare moment.

Tom however, always managed to have his assignments completed and ready to turn in even though Harry hadn't personally seen Tom actually working on the assignments. Even though Harry had never seen Tom working on homework, it appeared that Tom was always working on _something_. Whether it be the numerous amounts of letters Tom was constantly receiving, or scribbling in the journal he always carried with him, Tom was _always_ busy.

Even now, as Harry slowly worked through his assignments, Tom was in a corner alcove of the common room pouring over books. The entire table was covered in sheets of parchment, and thick Arithmatic and Runic tomes that Harry couldn't even attempt to understand; all while Tom made numerous amounts of notes in his journal. A journal that also held the distorting charm Tom used with all his letters, so Harry didn't even know what it was Tom was always working on.

It wasn't until mid-morning, when Harry became so frustrated with his History of Magic essay that he just _had _to have a distraction, that he finally took out the book Hermione had given him and began to read it.

Even though Harry understood Hermione's concern about his use of dark spells last year, he wasn't able to take it too seriously since he couldn't help but feel she had been overreacting about the whole thing. He _was_ curious about the fact that there really was dark magic, but he wondered why nobody ever said anything about it to him before if it was as dangerous as Hermione said it was. Especially if it was about something that could kill him.

He had been warned about dark magic, loads of times actually – something he thought had just referred to vicious spells like the Unforgivables – but he hadn't been told about _actual_ dark magic.

He thought it was possible this was just another thing about the wizarding world that everyone already knew about – like how to use the floo without falling on your arse, for example – but that had to be explained to those who were raised in the muggle world.

So it was with plenty of curiosity, and only a tad bit of enthusiasm, that Harry started to read the portion of _'Diseases of the Magical Core'_ that Hermione had ear-marked for him. Ten minutes into his reading though, he felt more confused about the entire thing than when he had first started.

The book had said that when a ritual or spell was considered 'dark', it meant that dark magic was being used to cast the spell instead of the witch or wizards inherent 'neutral' magic. Apparently there were some spells that were considered dark, even when the spells weren't malicious in anyway – like the shield spells Harry had found – but were still considered dangerous because it was cast with dark magic.

Harry supposed that made sense but what he _didn't_ understand was when the book started listing all the dangerous side effects of regular or constant use of dark spells. Apparently witches and wizards could suffer from many different levels of dark magic addiction that could result in a completely damaged core – thus rendering them a squib – or it could kill them completely as the dark magic infected their magical core and spread throughout the body.

The reason that didn't make sense was because Harry remembered all the times he'd practiced the spells listed in the _Dietrich_ dueling books, and he never _once_ felt the signs of dark magic use that the book listed.

He never once felt jittery, or suffered from abrupt mood swings, or intense anger or an irrational sense of elation after casting those spells. He never even experienced horrific nightmares from using those spells (he didn't think the few visions he's had counted) which the book stated was a common affliction of dark magic use that indicated the soul was being tainted.

Apparently, Harry had been so confused he'd been making frustrated noises the past couple minutes, causing Tom to inquire about what Harry was reading that had him so disgruntled. So, Harry showed Tom the book and explained his confusion over the whole matter since what he read in the book didn't match what he had actually experienced when he had used those 'dark' spells last year.

Tom had given Harry an inquiring, thoughtful look after listening to the reason he had been so frustrated, before giving a small nod as though finally settling on something.

"Come along, there's something I want to show you."

Tom then held out a hand and helped Harry up from the couch before heading up to their dorm room.

Harry felt his veins thrum in excitement as he followed Tom to the dorm room, and he wasn't sure if it was because he could still feel a small thrumming energy pulsing through his hand from the brief contact he'd had with Tom, or if he was just excited by the prospect that Tom wanted to show him something.

The dorm room was empty when they arrived – which wasn't surprising since the majority of students tended to spend their weekends in the library or wandering the castle grounds. Tom closed the door behind them, waving his wand with a series of quick and intricate strokes to lock and ward the door, before walking over to his trunk.

Tom tapped the lid of his trunk with his wand, whispering a long series of words Harry wasn't able to make out, before opening the lid. Harry peered inside the trunk when Tom indicated he should do so, his jaw dropping when he saw the inside of the trunk had been magically expanded to house an entire room that was _filled_ with shelves of books.

Tom stepped inside the trunk, climbing down the ladder that extended from the inside lid, all the way down to the floor of the library. Harry followed behind shortly after.

"Tom, this is amazing!" Harry exclaimed as he turned around completely to take in the entire space.

The wooden shelves reached from floor to ceiling and were completely filled with books without a single space left to spare. Harry could even see a few boxes in the corner of the room that held even more books. In the middle of the entire space though, was a small couch and table that held a few stacks of books as well.

The library wasn't massive by any means, but it was still about the same size of the dorm room that was just above them. Harry knew Hermione would absolutely _love _to have something like this.

He'd heard the real Moody had been found in the Imposter's trunk when Dumbledore had searched the office after the Imposter had disappeared. Harry hadn't thought it was possible to hide someone in a trunk for so long but now that he sees _this_ he can definitely believe that had happened now.

Harry thought it was amazing what magic could do.

"Thank you." Tom said with a smug grin on his face. "This is only a small portion of the books that I own, but I could only expand the trunk to a certain degree without risk of destroying the trunk itself."

"Why would you need so many books anyway? There's loads in the Hogwarts library you could use."

"Although there _is_ a numerous amount of books at the student's disposal, the majority of them don't hold anything of actual worth, however. Which brings me to why I wanted to show you this in the first place."

Tom turned towards one of the shelves, giving a small flick of his wrist. A book popped out of it's place on the shelf and shot threw the air right into Tom's outstretched hand. Tom did this a few more times as he moved to a few other bookshelves, and Harry was amazed by Tom's seemingly carefree use of wandless magic as though he were doing something as simple as breathing.

"The reason you didn't experience the symptoms listed in that book about so called 'dark magic addiction' is because the entire concept is rubbish. Have you ever wondered why certain spells are made illegal, therefore being labeled as 'dark'?" Tom questioned.

"Um...well I always thought spells were dark if they were lethal in some way. Like the Unforgivable Curses. All Cruciatus is good for is torturing people, the Imperius makes people do things against their will and the Killing Curse just kills people, obviously. They can't be used for anything else that could be considered useful or constructive in any way."

"Although it is true some spells sole purpose is to be malicious, it all depends on the persons intent for using the spell. Nothing is ever truly black and white in regards to whether it's 'good' or 'evil'." Tom responded while sitting on the couch, then indicated for Harry to join him. Harry hesitated for only a moment before taking a seat next to Tom. "Do you know why the Killing Curse was created in the first place?"

Harry's brow furrowed in thought. "No, I've never thought about it before."

"It was created in the early 1600's by the Wizard's Council – which later became the Ministry of Magic – so as to have a humane way to execute witches and wizards who had been sentenced to death." Harry's eyes widened.

"Now, when you think about how the Ministry executes people by the Dementor's Kiss, which you'd know is an absolutely _horrendous_ way to die if you've ever witnessed the administration of the Dementor's Kiss – considering it doesn't even fully _kill_ the person, it just leaves them as an empty husk of a shell that eventually deteriorates over the course of a few weeks before they truly die.

When you think of the Killing Curse however, the death is instantaneous and completely painless. So even though the main purpose of the Killing Curse is to kill, it is a _much_ better alternative to the various other ways the Ministry has chosen to execute it's prisoners."

"Now, many would argue that those criminals don't deserve a quick painless death – especially those who had been found guilty of the most heinous crimes – there were others who felt that just because someone was sentenced to death, didn't give them the right to torture and maim that person; thinking that if they did so they were merely encouraging the same monstrous behavior they were executing the prisoner for in the first place."

Harry remembered how he'd seen Sirius nearly lose his soul down by the lake back in his third year – and it _had_ been horrible to see – and felt that the Dementor's Kiss truly was more monstrous and cruel than the killing curse could ever be.

"Others supported the use of the Killing Curse since there was legislation at the time attempting to rid Azkaban of the Dementors' presence indefinitely and felt the curse was the step in the right direction in changing how the wizarding prison was maintained."

"The point I'm trying to get at though, is that the Killing Curse wasn't created for mass murder and mayhem. It was created by those who felt a more humane way was needed to execute prisoners. The fact that many other witches and wizards used the spell for more malicious reasons is why the Killing Curse was eventually labeled an Unforgivable by the Ministry when it was first formed.

"The Killing Curse, however, was _not_ made illegal because of some ridiculous notion that it was cast with 'dark' magic. Magic is a pure energy that is neither good or bad. It is a tool that the witch or wizard can decide to use for a multitude of ways and for numerous reasons."

"You could kill someone with a levitation spell, a charm that all First Years learn their first week at Hogwarts and it isn't considered 'dark' at all. And it most certainly isn't cast with 'dark' magic."

Harry quite agreed with that statement. Ron had managed to kill a _troll_ with the levitation spell their first year but it was considered relatively harmless. Harry actually grinned a bit at the thought of suddenly being told that the levitation spell was dark or evil.

"Although there are a few spells that pose a legitimate threat to the public and _should_ be outlawed, the truth is that a vast majority of all spells and texts that have been labeled as 'dark' are purely done so because of political maneuvering that allows the Ministry greater control over the masses than due to any real threat they pose to the general public."

"To ensure the public actually complied with the law, the Ministry ran a campaign to convince the magical populace that using certain spells will harm their magical core and render them a squib. The campaign was a huge success, since one thing all magic users fear is the possibility of _losing_ their magic." Tom opened one of the books he had gathered, shifting closer to Harry as he did so in order to show Harry the contents inside the book.

"Now, you've heard about magical exhaustion, correct?"

"Um...yeah I think Professor McGonagall told us about that our first year." Harry responded, a little slowly as he wracked his brain trying to think that far back to one of the first lessons he'd learned at Hogwarts. "She said it was something we had to watch for since transfiguration spells or certain charms that were maintained over a period of time could drain your magic if you didn't have the magical reserves to sustain the spell or something."

"That's a very basic way of putting it, but correct none the less. Now, if you look at this chart here," Tom indicated to the page he had opened in the book. Harry suddenly became aware of how close they were and that they were touching arm to arm, thigh to thigh and shook his head, trying to focus on what Tom was showing him as he felt his body start to thrum with energy. "You'll notice the symptoms of magical exhaustion are very similar to the symptoms of so called 'dark magic addiction'."

They were very similar. The chart showed magical exhaustion resulted in muscle weakness, lack of appetite, restless sleep and loss of muscle mass. Apparently the big indicator of magical exhaustion was a decrease in spell performance and constant fatigue. It even mentioned that some magic users experienced sudden bouts of elation as their magic fluctuated randomly while repairing and replenishing itself.

The book warned that if magical exhaustion was left untreated could result in the witch or wizard slipping into a coma for an extended period of time until the magical reserves were replenished, but would result in permanent core damage that could hinder magical growth if that damage was sustained during adolescence.

However, the book said it was unlikely for the witch or wizard to recover once falling into a coma, instead slipping into death.

"There are some differences as you can see." Tom continued after giving Harry time to look over the chart.

"The main cause of magical exhaustion is the result of a witch or wizard participating in a ritual that forced their magic to surface. A restoration ritual is one example of this where the wizards magic is forced to the surface to ensure the maximum amount of power saturated through to the blood or bone or flesh that is used for the ritual. Over the years the Ministry ended up banning all ritualistic magic for one purpose or other. Because of the common use of certain rituals, the Ministry warped the symptoms of magical exhaustion due to ritual magic – something that was common knowledge at the time – to scare witches and wizards from practicing the ritualistic magic or passing on the knowledge to the next generation.

"It was simple to make the symptoms appear more malicious than they actually were by saying muscle fatigue was actually nervous fidgeting due to dark magic withdrawal, or by saying that restless sleep was due to nightmares and that loss of muscle mass was also due to 'withdrawal'. The Ministry also convinced the public that the constant fatigue was due to 'corruption' of the core and massive mood swings – which wasn't too much of a stretch of the actual truth considering people do tend to be a bit more irritable when they're tired."

"So as you can see, the Ministry was able to warp an actual condition of the magical core to convince people that there was such a thing as dark magic and that all spells and rituals labeled as such needed to be avoided at all costs. Are you following along with what I'm saying so far? Harry?"

Harry was trying to focus, he really was but his mind became a bit lost somewhere back when he had been looking at the symptoms outlined in the chart. Even though he was seeing the words and listening to what Tom was saying he wasn't really registering any of that.

In fact, all Harry's mind was consumed with was the hum of magic that had continued to increase in its intensity the moment Tom had shifted closer to him. There was that same magnetic pull that made Harry feel as though he wouldn't be able to pull away from Tom even if he wanted too.

His skin was absolutely buzzing with that thrumming magical energy that seemed to pass through him, making his skin feel hot and flushed as his heart started to beat furiously in his chest and Harry could feel a pool of warmth swirling within his gut and had to shift in his seat slightly when he felt a hardness start to form between his legs.

A small part of Harry registered that somehow it was even more intense than the few times Tom had touched him by laying a hand on his arm or shoulder during class or the times they've bumped into each other as they navigated the crowded corridors. Instead of experiencing the small thrum of energy in an isolated area, he was experiencing it throughout his _entire_ body and it was just so much more _intense_ and filled Harry's mind with a kind of pleasant yet drug-like sort of fog.

And all he was really aware of was how _amazing_ it felt.

It wasn't until Tom had called his name a few times that Harry was able to focus somewhat back in the present; barely managing to hold back a pleased groan when he felt his cock twitch in his pants when Tom suddenly shifted to lay a hand on his shoulder, giving a little shake to get his attention.

"Harry, is everything alright? You seem a bit distracted." Tom said, with seeming concern and confusion over Harry's predicament.

A small sense of horror filled Harry when he finally realized exactly how hard he was, and that horror and embarrassment snapped him out of his dazed fog and quickly deflated his hardened cock as he fully realized that he had been aroused by just _sitting_ next to Tom.

The thoughts he had the day before about whether or not he was gay raced through his mind as he shot up from the couch quickly, telling Tom in a series of jumbled words that he had a detention to go too before turning around and sprinting up the ladder, out of Tom's trunk and out the dormitory door.

Harry was out of breath by the time he'd finally reached an empty classroom to hole himself up in as he tried to order the maelstrom of thoughts jumbling through his head. A blush spread across his face as he remembered all the times he had blushed or grinned stupidly at Tom over this past week and realized that he had probably reacted that way because he found Tom attractive.

Even when he had been scrutinizing the male students yesterday when he had first wondered if he was gay, he hadn't been fully aware that he saw Tom in _that_ way until just now. Even though he had thought that Tom was attractive he hadn't put much more thought into it. Especially since he had woken up this morning after having the same dream _again_ but hadn't woken up with an erection like he had the morning before – assuming his reaction yesterday morning really _was_ just due to teenage hormones.

But now...now that Harry's arousal for Tom had shown itself it such a blatantly obvious way – Harry blushed once more, praying to Merlin that Tom hadn't noticed – then there really was no denying that he did find men attractive. At least he knew he found _Tom_ attractive.

Harry thought that considering he wasn't freaking out over the entire thing was a good sign. Even though he was feeling a bit mortified, he thought that was due to his embarrassment over getting hard while sitting so closely to Tom more than anything.

Now that he was aware of the fact that he _did_ find Tom sexually appealing, he had no idea what he was supposed to do with that realization. He wasn't even sure if Tom found him attractive in return or if Tom even liked the male sex at all.

It took a good 20 minutes, but Harry was eventually able to emerge from the unused classroom he had hidden in once he had managed to calm his racing heart and keep himself from blushing uncontrollably. Even though it had just been a quick excuse to escape from Tom while he tried to sort out his body's reactions, he really _did_ have a detention to go too and he really didn't want to have to face Umbridge while he was still blushing over the whole thing.

But even as he met up with Ron in the middle of the 6th floor corridor so they could head down to Umbridge's office for their detention together, Harry couldn't help but idly wonder how he was going to be able to face Tom now without being completely embarrassed or making a fool of himself now that he saw Tom in _that_ way.

"I still can't believe we were assigned a _detention_ just because we were a few minutes late to class." Ron grumbled. His hair was a bit wet and his clothes a little disheveled as though he'd had to rush through a shower. "I mean, McGonagall has always been strict about arriving to class on time but she's never assigned us a detention for it."

Ron huffed as he attempted to straighten out his tie. "So what do you think this Umbridge women will make us do? She doesn't seem like the type to assign manual labor like Snape does, but she does have a nasty sort of air about her don't you think? She almost reminds me of Filch and how he's always complaining that he can't hang students up by the toes anymore."

Harry grimaced. "I don't know, but hopefully it doesn't take too long. I've already had four detentions this week and I'm really sick of them to be honest."

"Tough luck, mate. I forgot Snape gave you a month's worth. I agree with you though and hope she doesn't take too much of our time. I'd really like to get back to the Pitch and practice some more."

Harry felt a swell of annoyance that Ron had so easily forgotten about the insane amount of detentions he's received, but soon brushed the annoyance aside when he actually noticed how _exhausted_ Ron looked.

"How come you've been practicing so much?"

"Huh?"

"Why have you been practicing for the Quidditch tryouts so much? I mean, I know you're excited about being on the team but you've been absolutely obsessed with it lately."

Ron scowled, giving Harry a dark look and shoving his hands in his pockets. "There's nothing wrong with practicing. Not everybody just gets offered a place on the team like you did Harry."

Harry felt a swell of anger but quickly tried to push it down, but he couldn't seem to keep his voice from sounding a little tight when he spoke. "That's not what I meant Ron. I'm just worried since you seem really exhausted. It's not healthy to spend so much time practicing. Not even Oliver spent as much time on the Pitch as you've been lately."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing, I'm just worried about you is all. Merlin. I'm sorry I asked if you're just going to get all defensive about it."

Ron shoulders tensed and Harry did as well, thinking Ron was about to explode into one of his loud tirades. To his surprise, Ron seemed to deflate a moment later, sighing and running a shaky hand through his mop of red hair.

"You were right." Ron finally said, voice small.

Harry looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean? Right about what?"

Ron sighed again, closing his eyes for a moment before lifting his chin with a sort of grim acceptance. "About what you said about Dumbledore pitying me. How the only reason I became a Prefect is because of what I saw in that bloody Mirror. You were right."

Harry felt an odd mixture of guilt and shame swirl in his chest at those words. "Ron, I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have – "

"No, Harry. You were right." Ron interrupted, voice stronger. "I didn't want to hear it at the time but it's the truth. Hermione is an amazing student. She always has top grades and earns our House a ridiculous amounts of points in classes and she's always _wanted_ to be Prefect. I wanted to be Prefect too but only because I thought it would make students have to respect me and that just isn't the case. Hermione actually _likes_ helping the first years and showing the few of them that are muggle-born how to use quills and stuff. I mean that's what Prefects are supposed to do right? Help the new students? So when you said all that about Dumbledore and the Mirror I just _knew_ you were right. Since it doesn't make sense for me to be Prefect otherwise. I'm not like Hermione at all."

"The only thing I'm good at is Quidditch. I don't have Hermione's smarts or your talent in defensive spell casting. The only thing I have going for me right now is Quidditch. So if I don't have what it takes to get on the team by my own merits, then what do I have left to work for?"

"Ron that it isn't true." Harry began, not liking the way his best mate was talking about himself. "You have more going for you than just Quidditch – "

"No Harry, I don't." Ron interrupted, getting riled up now. "Playing Quidditch professionally has always been a dream of mine – you know it's true. You know what I saw in the Mirror our first year. When I realized that I don't even deserve to be Prefect but that I still managed to get it anyway because of Dumbledore, I knew I couldn't have that happen with Quidditch too. What's the point of finally achieving a dream if I didn't even achieve it by myself? How can I enjoy playing on the team if the only reason I got the spot on the team was because of my brothers or even you doing me a special favor? I know I tried getting you do that mate and I'm sorry. But I know now that isn't what I want.

"So I've been practicing every chance that I can get so that I know I have only myself to blame if I don't make the spot on the team. But I will also know that I have actual talent and skill in the sport if I _do_ get on the team."

"I'm practicing as much as I can so that if I do become a Professional Quidditch player I'll know it's because _I _made it happen."

Harry had no idea the comment he'd made in a fit of anger had had such a profound impact on Ron. He understood what Ron was saying but he didn't think Ron had to rely on making a spot on the Quidditch Team to prove his self worth. Even though Harry thought this, he knew Ron wouldn't listen or agree with his thoughts.

"So you're going to keep this crazy schedule of yours then?" Harry decided to ask. "Because if you do, it won't matter how skilled you are, you'll be too exhausted to do well in the tryouts."

Ron sighed as they approached Umbridge's office door on the 5th floor. "I know but it's the only thing I can focus on at the moment."

"Just pace yourself and take a break once in a while. Actually turn in some homework. You don't need to practice all day Ron. I've seen you play Quidditch before and I can tell you right now that you'd make a spot on the team just from the little I've seen you play. Just take it easy and get some rest all right?"

Ron gave Harry a tired smile. "Yeah, all right."

"Ready for this?" Harry asked as he looked at the awfully pink door. It was almost as much of an eye-sore as Umbridge herself was.

"No, but we might as well get it over with."

Harry knocked, feeling a bit queasy when Umbridge opened the door a moment later.

* * *

A/N: So this was all supposed to just be one chapter, but it ended up being a lot longer than I had originally thought it would be. So I split it between two chapters. I looked through and tried to fix any mistakes - but it's really early in the morning and I'm absolutely exhausted at this point, so if I missed something I apologize.

I wanted to thank everyone for leaving such amazing reviews. They really helped to keep me motivated as I worked on getting these chapters completed. Thank you for all of your support :)

I hope everyone's had a fantastic New Year!


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